Declare
by Black and White Candid
Summary: Robin loves her. He loves her so much it hurts. RxR, Rated T for language and mild sexuality.
1. Bloodloss

Robin threw his mask at the wall with a wild grunt, all because it was November. Because November smelled like rain, and to him, rain smelled like death; thick and wet and raw, like a wound or a corpse. Like hurt. Like pain, deep and stinging and dark. But it was just a scent. And he was just a boy.

So he collapsed onto his bed with a solemn huff and breathed, welcoming the familiar smell of his bed sheets. His head pulsed and his body ached with fatigue and stress, with the consistent yet demanding task of being the leader of the Teen Titans. And of course he loved being abnormal, being the stronghold and the pride of such a plagued city. But sometimes… sometimes it was just too much.

They had almost lost. And he had almost lost her.

He breathed a smile and thought of her, imagined her. In his arms, in his bed, her lips on his, huge eyes closed in a moment of peace.

Robin sat, stood, and opened he door to his bathroom, blinking his eyes in the suddenly very bright light. He pressed a hand against the mirror and gazed into his own eyes miserably. So many fanatic girls had tried to rip the mask from his face, and none succeeded. And though he didn't want any fingers but hers to pry it from his brow, he was afraid to disappoint her. His eyes weren't anything special, just plain boring grey. Not like silver and not like rich stones, nor like diamonds, but like clouds. They were matte and plain and smooth, not deep. Not caring.

Closing his eyes, so as not to see himself, he stripped of his clothes and tossed them aside, quickly turning on the hot water. At first, he winced as it stung his skin and sank into the cuts on his shoulder, but as his skin grew accustomed to the heat, he relaxed, and leaned against the cool tiled wall.

"Agh!"

The cuts burned against the pressure, and he quickly stood straight, letting the water soak the caked blood on his back.

Damn bitch.

Robin poured some body wash on his skin and washed away the grime, wincing all the while. When had he become so soft and since when did he groan at cuts, when not a month prior had he been stoic at the feeling of broken ribs? Surely he wasn't sick, for sickness would not change the way he fought or how careful he was, and it wouldn't make him lust for his teammate.

Maybe that was what was making him so vulnerable, so weak.

_If I push her away, drown this stupid crush, then everything will be normal again, and I can just fight without worrying. I wont get distracted every time she takes a hit._

But in the back of Robin's mind, he knew that the absence of her presence was what drove him insane, and sanity would only come when she was rightfully his.When she would sleep in his arms and put her lips to his and surrender herself to his warmth, that's when he would become what he once was.

So with a towel wrapped around his waist and his pride damaged, Robin left the steaming bathroom and picked his mask up off the floor. Placing it over his eyes, cringing at the clammy feel of it on his wet face, he wondered why he had even taken it off at all.

After slipping on a grey shirt and some red boxers, he slipped out the door. Sneaking through the halls so as not to wake his friends, he crept down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. But as he lifted his head from his feet, he quickly darted behind the wall and hid at the sight of dark lavender hair.

_Raven_

He poked his head around the door and watched as she leaned against the red couch, almost sitting, with a phone in hand, clad in a white loose sleep-shirt and black hotpants. Robin felt his blood pulse as he noticed that the shirt was cropped and worn and he could see her toned midriff and slim waist.

"No, no everyone in the tower is fine-… no, I was the only one hurt- Look! I just want an appointment to see if I there's anything I need to take care of. N- I realize that it would increase your business if the Titans got their check ups from you, but right now, you'll just have to settle for me."

She sighed with fatigue and annoyance and placed the phone back to her ear.

This was the time in which Robin decided to go in officially, so as he could listen in and comfort if necessary and so he could get a closer view of Raven's short shorts.

"I don't really care if I have to take a later appointment, I just need one for Wednesday. … Five o' clock? Yeah, that's fine, my old doctor retired and I don't like the new one. Yes… no. A check up. That's all. No… I'm quite sure that I am the only one in need of a doctor. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye."

She looked up at him finally and his staring eyes met hers.

"What was that about," he inquired curiously, still watching her as she hung up the phone.

"Ugh… I just want to make sure that I'm getting proper antibiotics. It's been stinging again."

"Your wound?"

"Yeah…" she said uncomfortably. Raven didn't want to admit that _it_ was an injury, as that would suggest that she was caught in a moment of weakness in which she could get hurt.

Robin nodded and turned to the coffee machine.

"Want any?"

"Nah, I'm good with tea."

"You always have tea. Try some coffee."

"I want tea," she stated aggressively, as is he was demanding something of her.

Robin smiled thinly. "…Tea it is."

"Chamomile."

"I know."

Robin poured some water into the coffee maker and set a teapot to boil. He turned to Raven and watched as she riffled through objects and papers and became particularly attentive when she bent down to pick up some papers. She began to straighten, so Robin quickly averted his eyes so the fact that he was staring at her ass wouldn't be apparent.

She turned and looked at him curiously, the slightest hint of a smile on her face.

"What," he asked with cautious interest.

"Nothing… I've just never seen your hair non-spiky."

"And?"

"And nothing. I've just never seen your hair flat." She shrugged, staring at him somewhat meanly, offended that he was still so careful and suspicious whenever she was near. "It looks nice, you should consider wearing it like that on an outing. I think we've all got cancer from your hair gel fumes, so it would be a nice break."

She walked closer to him and he pushed himself up so he sat steadily on the counter, his face growing hot as her hand reached out to touch his hair. Within the last few months, Raven's inhibition had fizzled, and she was more open. She still didn't show much in terms of emotion, and she certainly didn't open up any more than before, but she wasn't afraid of closeness, of touching. Touching didn't require a smile.

Her hand brushed through the strands in front of his face and Robin stared at her through his mask, eyes wide and amazed and completely, radically love struck. He was glad that she never read his thoughts or mood without permission.

"Rae?"

"What?"

"Can you read the others' minds?"

"Not the way I can read yours," she told him unblinkingly, her hand tracing his scalp. "Since we're directly connected through the mind meld, reading your mind is like talking on the phone or reading a message. It's completely clear. But they're like listening to a fuzzy radio channel. I can make out the sound and the mood ok, but I have to focus to make everything out. I guess it's more like morse code rather than a radio."

"Cool analogy," he joked, closing his eyes and memorizing how good her cool fingers felt against his forehead.

"Well I do try oh so hard."

"And you're oh so humble as well."

"Yet another skill of mine."

"See, the pinnacle of humility."

"Well I don't see you correcting me, Boy Blunder."

Robin leaned boldly, fighting his fear and inhibition to capture her lips in his, to do what he had wanted to do since saving her from her nightmares. But as his hand was about to touch her ashen cheek, she yelped loudly and crumpled to the floor, gripping tightly to her bandaged thigh.

His eyes darted from her leg to her hands to her lip, which was being bitten so hard, he feared her teeth would sink all the way through.

"Stand up and sit on the counter," he ordered worriedly as he hoisted her off the floor, supporting her with all his weight. She nodded, and struggling, she pulled herself onto the smooth surface.

"Do you mind if I look?"

Raven shook her head and watched through clenched eyes as Robin pulled the first aid kit from the cupboard.

Carefully, he sliced through the ribbons of gauze and tape and bandages and pulled them from her skin, almost recoiling at the sight in both pity and fright. Fresh and gaping, lay a deep wound almost two inches in diameter, the flesh raw and red and glaring. Out of habit, her mind uninhibited by pain, she desperately grabbed his hand, squeezing tight to avoid crying out.

"Who wrapped your bandage," Robin demanded, looking at her furiously.

"Beastboy. He felt bad that I had taken a hit for him, so he-"

"You let Beastboy wrap your bandage?! He doesn't know a damn thing about cleansing a wound! That's like letting Starfire teach English at Harvard!"

"He did just fine!"

"No, he didn't! If he did then it would have clotted by now, you wouldn't be in this mess, and I wouldn't have to deal with this!"

Robin blinked as the words left his mouth, not quite knowing why he said what he did, not knowing why he had shouted at her when she had done nothing wrong. He stared up from her wound expecting to be sent hurling against a wall or at least a verbal lashing, bust she just sat there, looking away from him, as if she was a child who had just been scolded.

"Rae…"

Robin brought his hand to her cheek and she winced as if he had slapped her.

"Don't touch me," she hissed lowly, dark tendrils curling around her arm, and swallowing his hand in shadow.

"Rae, I didn't mean to shout at you, I was just worried."

"That was some funny way to show you care, oh wise leader. Aren't you supposed to control your anger when one of your _followers_ is injured?"

"Look who's talking," he shot back angrily, holding up his wrist to show the fading line where her magic had touched. "I thought that you had total control now."

He heard the thunder of a shattering window overhead and a lightbulb above them flickered out.

"Apparently not."

"I'm working on what I need to work on. I meditate every day so I don't endanger this damn team. You have no right to judge me. "

"I'm not judging you, I'm making a statement based on fact. You haven't controlled your powers yet. Now hold still while I put a bandage on."

She tried to glare at him, tried to be furious at him, but he was being kind and was concerned, which made her feel wanted and appreciated. So she just sat and watched as he gathered the disinfectant and the gauze. Pouring some of the liquid onto a paper towel, he grabbed her knee and held it still.

"This might sting, okay?"

"I know."

"Are you ready?"

She looked at him blandly and nodded. So he took her consent and pressed his towel covered hand onto her wound and waited for her to get used to the acidic sting. She grabbed onto the ledge of the countertop and shut her eyes calmly, absorbing and dulling the hissing pain. She focused on his hand on her knee and how careful and gentle he was being, and it seemed to diminish the pain.

"Are you still good."

"Yes."

"'Kay. I'm gonna put the bandage on now. It might be a little tight at first."

"I'll be fine," she snapped. "So just hurry up."

"Fine. Just calm down."

She was taken aback at his tone, which was annoyed and condescending.

"What the hell is your problem?! I didn't do a damn thing to you."

"_My_ problem? What's your problem?! All I've done is help you!"

"Help me?!" She exclaimed, appalled. "All you've done is treat me like a child!"

He stood and his mask, now dry, wrinkled in anger.

"I am doing nothing but helping you! So you could be thankful rather than accuse me of talking down to you when all I'm doing is caring about you!"

"I don-"

But Raven stopped short as she felt liquid creep against her hand. She raised her palm up to the light and moaned, aggravated, at the sight of blood and the bleeding injury.

Robin quietly wet a second paper towel, sat back down in his chair, and began to wipe her leg clean of the blood.

"I don't need to be taken care of," she said quietly.

"I know you don't need it and I wasn't calling you incapable. I was helping you because _I_ was worried and because _I_ wanted to."

"But you shouldn't be."

"Why," he demanded.

"Because you don't owe me anything."

He looked at her mutely and soaked the towel again.

"Maybe I wanted to."

She huffed in frustration and looked at him avoid her eyes.

"I don't want you to," she said.

"Well after letting Gar bandage you, I don't really think that you're in any position to refuse."

"It's my fucking body, Robin!"

"And I'm your leader and it's my job to keep the city safe by keeping you safe. So shut up. You're gonna make it bleed more."

She looked at him, her eyes almost sad.

"Why are we fighting?"

He looked at her, his face holding the emotion she wished she could show.

"I don't know," he sighed.

"Cause I keep starting fights?"

"And I keep egging you on."

She nodded and took his hand in hers, surprising both of them. Just looking at him and just blinking, smileding tiny smile, making Robin's heart jump and thud and then drop into his stomach.

"Your birthday is coming up right?"

"Yeah. In December."

"What do you want?"

Robin knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted her. Her body, her eyes, her bloody wound that he would surely have to clean once a day… if not twice. He wanted her to throw him against wall when she was pissed and rant about how she was the only intelligent one on the team and come to him when she had those dreams about her father. He needed to finally have that courage to sweep her onto his lap and kiss her till the morning came.

But he couldn't say that. So he shrugged.

"Tell me when you figure it out," she smiled, pouring the boiling water into her teabag filled cup. "Later Boy Blunder."

He grinned at her as she limped out of the room, sending him a chaste blind wave.

_I am definitely wearing my hair like this more often._


	2. A Friendly Threat

"When are you planning on telling her?"

"Huh?"

Robin looked up at his metallic friend, who dragged a dirty cloth around and over his precious vehicle. The car, like the boy's arm, glowed neon blue and shone like a diamond. With a forced concentration, Robin stared down at the car, making his hand turn in circles, rag in hand. He hated doing motor work… but it was easier than admitting the truth. Besides, the oil fumes stung less than Cyborg's jade eyes.

"You got it so bad, man," the taller boy said distractedly, dropping the rag on the ground and leaning against the tool cart.

"Huh," Robin repeated.

"So when are you gonna tell her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Let me rephrase that. _Are_ you going to tell her?"

"Seriously, I don't know what you mean."

Cy shrugged and grabbed the towel from the floor and began to shine the machine. He wasn't the nosy type. He was curious… and he was certainly intuitive, but he knew when to cut his loses and let people come around on their own. Who was he to meddle and poke and prod? That was the job of the changeling, and he was there to play shrink and give insight, and listen to people rob him of his right to have his own problems.

But he ignored his own minimal burden and waited for Robin to crack. After all, he hated motor work more than anything and he couldn't avoid the subject for too much longer.

"Ok. Pretend I don't know anything. I'm just some innocent semi-bionic teenager who just happens to be here for a nice man-to-man talk. But you might want to think about getting it off your chest before you become too obvious. Before BB finds out and goes around blabbing your secret and bothering you."

Robin sighed. "It's Raven."

"I suspected that. But what about Star? Didn't you guys have a thing?"

"We did, but it ended. Didn't last long at all. I was… I don't know… too serious? And she was too sweet for me, clingy as hell."

Cy nodded, understanding completely. Star was like his baby sister, and while she was kind and adorable and amusingly strange… he knew how she could attach herself to one person and cling so desperately.

"She wasn't a great kisser either. She sorta… stuck her tongue down my throat," Robin winced, shuddering.

"And that girl has a long tongue…"

"I think it reached my stomach."

They boys laughed and left the car, taking a seat on the metal chairs.

"So, now you're going for Rae?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"How serious is it… like… I dunno. On a scale of one to ten?"

Robin focused on everything he could think about her, on everything he felt, on everything that made him crazy. He thought of all the times he had dreamt about her, thought of her, wanted to kiss her. He ran through every time he had the opportunity to tell her, to kiss her, and all the times he had beaten himself up about it after a failed attempt. All the things he love about her, things he hated, things that surprised him and made him think about her for hours. But after a long silence he realized there were to many thing to count and that rating his affection might be impossible.

So he just gave a meek "I don't know."

Cyborg barked a laugh heavy with wisdom and burden, staring at Robin dead in the eye with an eerie casualty.

"So basically you're either in love with her or it'll fade within a few days. You don't have to admit it to me. But you should tell yourself. I know you, Rich. If you can't admit it to yourself, then you can't admit it to her. And one day, she'll say it, and if you can't say it back, you'll hurt her. And if you hurt her, I'll hurt you.

"Thanks for the help with the T-car, by the way. I appreciate it."

Robin nodded, stood, and left.

Could he say those words? Could he ever say to himself, "I love Raven," and then tell her that he did? He knew he felt something, something so strong and potent and raw, something so real it hurt. Maybe what he felt was love, but he never really gave love to anyone but his parents, and that was almost nine years ago.

He hadn't thought about anything other than her since their late early morning encounter four days prior. When he was able to think about something else, that thought would lead to her.

So it didn't help, at the very moment he went up to the roof, that he found the girl sitting on the roof with her legs dangling over the edge. But instead of following the orders his mind gave him, he followed his heart and walked up to the edge. He spread his arms wide, leaned against the strong winds, and let out a grand whoop of joy, loving the feeling of the gusts on his face. He felt a hand on his leg, pulling at his pants and he looked down to see her holding onto the fabric loosely, gazing stoicly onwards,

"Be careful," she told him boredly, her eyes unmoving.

"I won't fall."

So she let go, because, after all, he had just promised. But she was still afraid, so she remained aware and constantly cautious.

"Robin?"

"Yeah?"

"What does it feel like to freefall?"

He cocked his head to one side and wondered first why she was asking and second if he ever had. He supposed that swinging from the grappling hook might be similar, but there was always something to save him.

"I don't really know. I don't think I've ever _really_ freefallen,"

"I have."

"So why…" Robin was confused and couldn't quite comprehend what kind of game she was playing.

"When Slade pushed me from that tower. I can't remember."

"Why do you need to remember?"

Raven curled her knees up to her chest and hid her face behind them. Robin tenderly brushed the hair that fell from behind her ear back into its rightful place. He scooted closer and pulled her cloak so it covered her. She didn't react, but she didn't push him away, so he took her silence to be a gesture of thanks. She was upset and frightened and he wanted her to smile, even though she never did.

"What's up with you Rae? You aren't acting normal."

"Why does everyone fall in fucking love with her? It's BS. She isn't that special and she's and idiot. And immature and foolish. She's nowhere near as pretty as people make her out to be. 'The beauty of Jump city!' Ha!"

Robin was befuddled as she said this but he could see how upset she was by how her knuckles turned white and the metal under her hand began to warp slowly. He was careful when he put his hand over hers, but when her fingers opened to let his fingers lace through he smiled.

"She's such a bitch…"

"Star?"

"No, your mother. Yes, genius, Star."

Raven knew that that hurt him, for his lips twitched slightly downward an his eyebrows almost rose. But she was too angry and had too much pride to apologize.

"What happened?"

"She got me to go to the mall with her," she groaned. "And… I don't know, all these guys started hitting on her and I wasn't given a second glance. So when the troglodytes finally left she saw 'that I was not joyful and had an unpleasant look on my face'. So I, stupidly, told her. Of course being the epitome of intelligence that she is, told me that I 'should not be so frightening and eerily depressing'. And then…"

She hesitated, for she had no idea why she was even telling this story to Robin rather than the training dummies in the gym, why she was talking rather than beating the crap out of a rubber mannequin. But Robin knew her, and she trusted him more than anyone, plus…it felt right.

"And then my ex boyfriend showed up… and now Star has a date with her first emo."

"You had a boyfriend?"

"About a year ago, that guy I met at the club we went to with Blackfire. It didn't work out too well. He was sel- obsessed and self centered, and I don't deal with drama queens. But I cared about him, because… well no one really saw me as interesting. But I didn't mind that she has a date with him. She… she…"

Even during her apocalypse, he had never seen her look so hurt or vulnerable.

"She brought up Malchior."

Robin looked at her glaring at the water.

"She wasn't being mean, Rae, just careless. I doubt that she said it spitefully."

"I don't care! She knows how much I hate him. She should have careful."

"I know. You're right. But we burned that book. And he can't hurt you anymore. And if he somehow came back," Robin breathed, smiling at her, "then he would be dead the minute he even looked at you."

She stared blankly at him, hiding her smile behind her legs and gazed back out at the ocean, at the waves, at the seafoam, and wondered what it would be like to swim forever.

-

(Titan Tower Main Room- 5:33 p.m.)

-

Cyborg cracked an egg into a bowl and whisked it around several times until it blended with the flower and butter and dry ingredients. The green boy next to him made a face.

"Dude, how can you eat that stuff? I've been most of the things you swallow!"

"Yes, notice the fact that you are scrawny, weak, and short. You need protein, man food, nourishment."

"Tofu has twice the protein of dead animal muscle."

"Well then you're just scrawny, weak, and short."

Beastboy rolled his eyes and grabbed a soy milkshake fridge, popped open the cap, and downed it quickly, setting down the already half empty bottle with a contented sigh. He licked his upper lip and grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter, but jumped back when his saw several dark red spots next to the fruit. he shrank into the form of a beetle and tasted the red with his antennae.

"BB, what are you doing?"

He quickly returned to form and got off the counter.

"It's blood. On the counter. Raven's blood."

"It's fine. She told me it started bleeding and Robin bandaged her up again."

"Suuure," said Beastboy, pealing his banana and taking a large bite, then swallowing. "They were probably hooking up and she stared bleeding cause her heartbeat was fast."

The darker boy blinked and stared at his best friend in wonder.

"W-What?"

He hadn't let it slip while sleep talking, had he?

"C'mon, Cy. It's just a little obvious that Robin is obsessed with her. I mean, hello? He's practically stalking her. He stops dead every time he sees her wearing something other than her uniform, he wont let anyone else sit next to her at movies, he holds her hand so much it's practically rape… of course she's completely dense… . Well, anyways, it's either creepy fascination or love is in the air."

"Yeah, I was wondering about that too. I mean if there is one thing Robin can't do it's give up. I'm just worried that this is a game he doesn't realize he's playing. What happens if they do hook up? I hope he doesn't get bored. There's also the fact that he could be in love, which scares me, 'cause I dunno if Robin can think about a girlfriend and a villain without loosing his grip or making her miserable."

Beastboy nodded and unwrapped some microwavable veggie dogs and threw them into the machine setting it to cook for one minute. He stared at it for a while, watching it rotate, and took it out when it was done, staring at the sky.

"Thanksgiving is coming up in a few days. Then it's December, Rob's birthday, then Christmas… then it's a new year," he murmured. "Do you think Robin will tell her by then?"

"I bet he doesn't have the balls to do it at all. Fifty dollars says he'll seduce her, he'll punk out, and she'll do it."

"You don't much faith in him. I raise you twenty-five that she's his girlfriend by New Years."

"So quick?"

"They have a month," he exclaimed. "It's not like it'll take years!"

Cyborg grinned and shrugged, grabbing the chicken wings and legs and dipping them in the batter, prepping them for frying. He listened as it crackled and popped in the heat of the oil, turning brown and crispy, filling the whole room with the smell of southern herbs and batter. As he waited for the fifth wing to crisp, he leaned against the fridge and yawned.

"They may have a month, but I dunno, they're so alike each other, and Raven's careful as hell. But, hey! You've got yourself a bet."

"Just don't tell Star," Beastboy said quietly. "I know Rob's moved on, but I know she still feels something for him. She hasn't fallen out of-"

"Dear friends! I have most glorious news to inform you of!" Starfire burst from the door, her cheeks flushed and happy and her eyes twinkling. "I am in love!"

Beastboy's mouth stood agape as her excited voice reached his ears. Cy however, happy for her and wanting her out of the way, slapped her on the back and grinned.

"Who's the lucky guy," BB finally chimed in.

"His name is Chasen and he is the most interesting human male I have ever encountered. He is in a band and is able emit sonic shrieks from his mouth! I believe it is what is called 'screamo', correct? Oh, and his hair has the softness of a thousand Sloklarg Efilarts! And… oh, his is incredibly mysterious. We how would one say it…? Smacked it on?"

"That's hit is off, Star."

"Yes, yes! We hit it off! He is very kind and we are to have our second date in two days! Oh, it was magical…" she sighed wistfully, her expression dreamy and longing. "I am quite ravenous. When is it dinner time?"

"As soon as those two get their butts down here! YO! BIRDS! TIME TO EAT!"

-

(Rooftop- 6:00 p.m.)

"Don't you ever get cold?"

"Yes. But I like the cold," she answered stubbornly, tiny goosebumps rising on her legs. She pulled her cloak closer to her as the wind barreled through her leotard and breathed comfortably as she felt a heavy warmth fall of her shoulders. Robin looked at her, arms bare, jacketless, and smiling.

"I think you lie to much for your own good. You don't have to play tough to be tough, cause we already know you are."

"I wasn't lying," she told him fiercely. "I _do_ like the cold. I just am cold at the moment."

She inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the sea on the velvety air, the smell of his jacket, the moonlight and the sand far below.

"So you're okay?"

"Well, I can't stop Chase from liking Star and I can't really be mad at her for anything other than being insensitive, so I don't really see the point in dragging this out any longer. I mean, damn, it still hurt like a bitch to be called creepy and told that I should find someone like Malchior; someone who understood me. He didn't understand anything about me! He only told me that I was beautiful and that we were alike so he could use me. So for her to say something like that…"

"But she didn't mean it like that, she just meant someone who could see past how heavy your control is."

He wanted to scream, to shake her, to yell, and wave his arms and make her see that he was that person. That he saw through the gloom and doom, that he could make her happy, no matter what measure of self-sacrifice it took. He would burn the villain records and throw out all his birdarangs if it would please her. If it would make her smile.

"Chasen was the only person ever able to tell me that he loved me, ever. And we both moved on. And I don't really care who he dates. But it just- with Starfire- I mean, for her, it's easy. Chase will absolutely fall in love with her and she'll return the favor. Another never-ending cycle that rotates around her. Why can't one of her exes want to date _me?"_

"Raven, I have to tell you something.'

She blinked and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Robin leaned back onto his arms and closed his eyes, so he wouldn't be intimidated by her violet stare, so it wouldn't bore into him.

"I think… I think you're amazing… and any guy who doesn't see that at first glance isn't worth your time. So if your first love or whoever that ass was went for Star, then forget it. He's an idiot."

He stood and opened his eyes, staring out into the blinding sun on the waves.

"I can hear Cy, so I think it's time for you to eat."

"Wh- you're not eating?"

"Not hungry. Save me a plate of leftovers, kay?"

"What about your jacket," she asked quickly, not wanting to walk down the stairs alone.

"Keep it. It's too thin for me anyway."

He left down the stairs, letting the door close quietly behind him.

The girl, the small, vengeful, intelligent being, with her legs dangling over the roof, smiled softly and pulled the jacket tighter to her frame. She stood, still smiling and left, wanting to keep the feeling with her. She could see small explosions of black erupt and burst on the ground far below, destroying small rocks and pebbles. But for once, she let it happen, and watched.

And ignored it.

While the boy, far below her, raged and punched and furiously kicked, withering a punching bag into half of what it started as when he entered not five minutes before. He scolded himself for letting it get so far, putting him and her at so much risk. For allowing himself to get distracted by her and her eyes and body and scent. And for not being able to say what he truly wanted to say.

So he wiped his brow of sweat and shook of onto the floor.

He ran up stairs to his room.

He fell onto his bed.

He sighed. For he had forgotten what love felt like.

And he slept, for he didn't know if he could at all.


	3. Promise

_She smiled as he ran a hand through her short purple hair and let it fall off his fingers._

_"Why don't you grow it out?"_

_"It gets in the way… plus it holds bad memories."_

_"Not for me."_

_"…?"_

_"Fist time you hugged me," he said. "Happiest day of my life."_

_"Because I hugged you," she quipped flatly, a single eyebrow raised. "Man, you need to get laid."_

_He chuckled and leaned an arm against the wall, so he could easily whisper in her ear. She closed her eyes to check herself as she felt his breath on her neck and imagined his teeth scraping against it as they did once before, sending a shudder down her spine. She let the shiver travel to her legs and her ankles and her toes, making the little hairs all over her stand on end._

_"Well if you insist," he hushed, kissing her neck so softly it felt like torture, teasing her, coaxing her lips to up to his. He spoke and drew back as their lips were but centimeters apart. "However, I don't think that the hallway is the best place for this."_

_He let his hand slide sinuously down her arm, arousing more goosebumps from her skin._

_"I don't want to today," she said, an almost whiney quality to her voice, the flatness gone with the excitement of the current situation._

_"Please," he asked huskily, his pride slipping enough to let him beg._

_His hunger was rich, his need, his vulnerability, hung heavy, thick. And She could taste his desire in the air. Not because he allowed her into his mind, but because he couldn't contain his own feelings, his own thoughts, because he was being completely honest with himself… and her. _

_The empath, drunk of his vibes, pounced on him, her lips on his lips. Though surprised, he caught her, his arms supporting her. Her legs wound around his back, her hands dug themselves into his hair, … she kissed him deeper, the emotion now as much her own as his. His hands, though holding her, began to trace along her back. She smiled against him._

_"Raven, wait."_

_She ignored him and continued, starving and in need of his affection._

_"Rae, stop," he said again, pushing her away slightly._

_"What's wrong Birdbrain?" she asked coyly, pulling at his collar desperately. "Don't tell me you're afraid of flying."_

_"You don't want this. You said you didn't."_

_"I was wrong," she pleaded. She wanted this, wanted __**him**__ more than anything._

_He paused, gently kissing her eager lips._

_She was not so ready to separate._

_He smiled._

Raven gasped loudly and sat up, scanning her surroundings. _Her_ bed. _Her_ midnight blue covers, _her_ hand-painted stars on the ceiling,_ her_ heart, thumping… alone. And she felt miserable, but she kept it inside, so things wouldn't explode and so he wouldn't worry. So she admitted her misery aloud and scowled.

If he worried he'd find her… and she would see him. There was no telling what would happen if she saw him.

She didn't understand her dream and even if she understood why, she wouldn't remember what, since the dream was falling out of her conscience like flower through a sieve. So Raven blinked and levitated some water from her glass, splashing it over her face.

She began to recall it again and she paled, her skin no longer light grey, but snowy and ashamed.

In her dream, in that unusual dream…she had kissed Robin… she wanted to have sex with him, her friend, her leader. Not only that, but she was allowing herself to feel passion… but nothing happened.

But, it being a dream, she shook her head of the absurdity. She was the daughter of Evil and her powers needed monitoring. This was just as much of a fact as any. As true as Starfire's red hair and Robin's obsession problem.

But nonetheless… it frightened her and the lamp beside her began to shake. So, being careful and perplexed, she picked up her communicator and pressed three buttons, both embarrassed and curious.

"Mmmhello," answered a sleepy voice.

"Bumblebee?"

"Rae? What's up? It's like…" she broke off, and the dark girl could hear rummaging in the background. "It's like three forty. Is something wrong?"

Raven paused, wondering how she could say it without sounding weird.

"I had a dream… about Robin."

She could practically hear the hesitation in her voice as the words registered.

"C'mon Karen, I need your… insight."

"No big words yet, Rae," Bumblebee yawned, " let my brain wake up."

"Fine. I need your… help," she struggled. "I had a dream… about Robin… and I don't know, it's weird. It didn't make any sense. I was able to… let out emotion without anything being destroyed. I need to know how to get rid of it."

"Do you know why you're having this dream?"

Raven thought for a long time. She could in no way deny that she and the masked boy had spent a lot of time together and she also couldn't deny that she found him engrossing, but she didn't understand what he did to her. He made her… feel, too much for her to be safe. It scared her… because he was taking away her control. Because he made her feel safer than she should. Because she felt she could trust him and no matter how much Raven cared for someone, trust was an issue for her, and being at ease was something so alien it made her uncomfortable.

His caring, this unconditional… whatever he gave her was something she didn't understand. With everyone else, she could predict. Cyborg would always protect her and understand her, Beastboy would always find new ways of irritating her, and Starfire would always make her smile… and always make her jealous. But she didn't know what constant she and Robin had. They had so many ups and downs, she never knew if a smile would be reciprocated or just be a catalyst for another battle.

"Rae?"

The young sorceress shook her head to clear her thoughts. "What?"

"I asked you a question?"

"Oh," she said quickly, "I honestly don't know why. We spend a lot of time together and we're really close, but nothing is too out of the ordinary."

"What was the dream about?"

"I told you. Robin."

"Yes, I realize this. What _happened_ in the dream? Why are you freaked out that he was in it? Did he save you or die or… wait… w-… Rae was this… was this a _romantic_ dream?" Bumblebee whispered, shocked, and frankly, very amused.

Raven felt herself blush and shrink inwardly. The lamp next to her began to quiver lightly again, so she took a deep breath and repeated her mantra.

". . . "

"Was it?"

"…Yes."

"How romantic are we talking…?"

"Kay. Come on. I didn't call you for this."

The phone crackled loudly with the girl's hilarity.

"Did you do him?"

"God, you're so vulgar."

"Did you?" Bumblebee prodded, cackling all the while.

Raven sighed and recalled the dream, shame bubbling in the pit of her stomach. "No."

The other girl, far across the city, sat in her lamp-lit room, tried to keep herself from laughing, remembering that Raven could teleport and beat her with one hand behind her back. Bumblebee wasn't one to be underestimated, but she knew when someone's strength or power was superior to hers. She was, like many others, frightened of the dark girl.

So she stifled her laughter and continued.

"Did you round second or third base?"

"No."

"So it was just hooking up, making out, kissing, whatever?"

"Yes," Raven huffed, picking at her mattress guiltily, "but it was obvious that it was leading to something else. So I don't want this dream to continue."

Bee was afraid to ask the obvious question, knowing that her friend was much more sensitive than she let on. After all, if Raven (who, though brilliant, was rather dense) ever discovered, realized, found out about Robin's feelings for her… the striped heroine feared to think about it. With Raven's self doubt and fragile heart, despondency was a threat that loomed over every step she took.

But Karen was curious and foolish with fatigue, so she shrugged and asked anyway.

"Do you have any feelings for him?"

"No," Raven answered defensively, unsure of herself and puzzled. "He's my friend. That's. All. Nothing more."

"One last question before you hang up on me."

"Wha-? Oh, never mind. What? What's your question?"

"Was it hot?"

Raven slammed the phone against the receiver and pulled the covers over her head.

"Horny bitch," she muttered,

-

(Titan Tower Living Room, 4:16)

-

He sat and watched the fire, warming his hands, occasionally poking the logs, reawakening the flames.

He wasn't good at sitting still, but there was something about the way the fire whisped and danced that intrigued him. So he didn't move.

He couldn't sleep. After staring at a computer screen all day, he was too stir crazy and hyper to sleep. He tried to watch TV, but it was too cold in the common area. But instead of turning on the heat he ventured into the street at one fifteen in the morning, freezing his ass off, and bought firewood.

But the TV never got turned on. The yellow-orange glow fixated him, so he sat for hours, adding logs and newspapers, just watching it grow and fizzle and grow again.

"Would you protest if I sat next to you," chirped a cautious voice.

Robin shook his head as the alien floated next to him and took a seat.

"Did you have frightening dreams?"

"No," he said, eyes still glued to the flares, "I just kept tossing and turning… those forty winks just didn't come."

Starfire looked at him, befuddled. "Forgive me, but I do not understand why forty winks would help you sleep."

"It's a figure of speech, it's just a weird phrase for sleep."

"I see," she said quietly, resting her head on the top of her knees.

There was a long pause. They silently stared ahead at the slowly failing fire. Starfire was uncomfortable. Robin didn't feel like speaking.

"Robin?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I still allowed to call you my friend?"

He turned to her, surprised. Oblivious he was, but uncaring he wasn't.

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I have heard that once Earth couples have, how does one say it… split up, it is difficult for them to remain on friendly terms. Are you upset with me for being so attached? I assure you, had I known how to behave… but worry not. I would understand if my presence troubles you."

Robin laughed lightly and smiled. She was too loving… which was why he so dreaded their romance.

"Star, don't worry so much. It's cool. Really."

"Are you are not upset that I am moving on?"

"No, I just want you to be happy. You seem to really like this Chasen guy," Robin encouraged, bumping her shoulder with his. If anything, he was happy and relieved that she was moving on, since lingering emotions would hold him back from his goal. He noticed how selfish it sounded, his wanting her happiness so she wouldn't burden him. But he wanted her to be happy as well, so he forgave himself.

"He is very sweet, and he certainly seems to enjoy my company, as I do his… but he is not without his flaws. He is very self centered," she sighed, " he takes a very long time getting ready and cares far to much about his appearances. Yet there is something so delicate about him that makes me very curious. So I am willing to overlook his selfishness."

Robin was protective.

"Are you sure that it's wise?"

"Oh yes… I did for you as well. Yet it was harder with you… you were not selfish exactly but very… self-absorbed. You only focused on your own activities; on yourself… it was very difficult for me. I understand that you cannot always separate yourself from your duties, but so much time was not necessary. This I what I truly wanted to confront you about," she admitted sadly. "I plead with you… do not pursue friend Raven."

Robin was shocked, terrified, aghast. The fact that his affections were so transparent completely slipped past him.

"I care for her very much, she is like the sister I have never… well the sister I have always wanted to have. I do not want you to hurt her… and I am afraid that you may make her lonely and upset if you are involved with something else. I fear that you may forget about her… as you did occasionally with me. I understand that thing were… complex… for us and we were… oh, what is that word… not meant to be. But she is more fragile than you could possibly imagine."

"Star, I'm not going to hurt her. I would never, _never_ hurt her," he assured her, clenching his fist so as not to lash out in anger and insult.

But she shook her head.

"You say you will not," she muttered, "but I know you very well, Robin. It is hard for you to take your mind away from where it naturally goes."

"I promise I won't. Here, if I don't take the utmost care of her then I will throw away… I'll throw away all of the articles I have on Slade. Every clipping and every picture. Only the computer log stays."

She gazed at him for a long time. Then, deciding that he was serious, nodded.

"I promise, Star."

"How can I be sure that you are being honest?"

"I just am, Star."

"Do you love her?"

He nodded.

"With all my heart."


	4. Consolation

There were several reasons Raven hated Thanksgiving.

Beastboy always woke her up by pouncing on her, something, which Raven, found incredibly annoying.

She smiled. A lot. Without being forced. So things tended to explode.

Since she wasn't a fantastic cook (and that's putting it lightly), she and Star were assigned the task of decoration, which infuriated her since she had to partake in such a stereotypically feminine activity and do half the work over again when Starfire hung things upside down.

There were always placement cards. And she always got stuck next to Beastboy, who ate like the creatures he transformed into.

They always gained a pound or two, and Robin always had them work off the fat with a six-hour training day.

So when Raven opened her eyes and saw the shiny black eyes of a green Orangutan staring back at her, she groaned and pulled the covers over her head.

"C'mon Rae. It's Thanksgiving."

"Thus the reason I choose to sleep."

"If you wake up now I'll share my soy-shake with you… it's chocolate… Beastboy knows how much Rae-Rae likes chocolate…" the changeling singsonged, shaking the miserable dark girl.

"I fully acknowledge my weakness for chocolate, however my detestation for your bean juice forces me to refuse."

"Raven. Just get up. Please? You won't even have to do anything! Not even put a single bough of mistletoe up. If you have to lift a single finger, I swear I will clean my room."

Raven was slightly taken aback. The mere thought of cleanliness terrified him. But she was stubborn and self-disparaging.

"Just fuck off… nobody wants me there anyway."

"Are you crazy?! Dude! If you weren't there to settle me down and keep Cy from hurting me, do you think that either or us would enjoy ourselves? And you're the only one who can give Robin a good conversation, who keeps Star from adding ingredients to things?"

"You seem to forget the meaning of _want_," the psychic mumbled from under the covers, acting childish, which was something Beastboy was surprised she could even pretend to be. "You need me there to keep the peace. However, I doubt anyone wants me there to ruin the mood. It's Thanksgiving. I don't think you want someone as creepy as me passing anyone cranberry sauce. ……I'll be at Barnes and Noble if you _really _need me."

"…Can I come with?"

"No."

So she held the door open for him and gave him an apologetic frown as he sulked out of the room. Closing the door, she tugged off her pajamas and threw them into her laundry hamper. Quickly, she tied her hair into a messy ponytail, slipped on a pair of black skinny jeans and an old white boy-beater, and pulled on her Converses. She gave herself a once over in the mirror and nodded, satisfied (and quite pleased) with her look.

Walking down the stairs, she wiggled her toes inside her shoes. She loved her converses, as was apparent by the worn out soles and the yellowish gray hue of the white rubber. They allowed her to move well and they were comfortable. The fact that she just _felt_ good in them made her treasure them even more.

So, rushing downstairs, praying that no one would see her, she grabbed her coat and ran out the front door, pausing only to punch in the security code.

She breathed deeply, welcoming the frigid ache the cold air gave her, and was suddenly very happy that her coat was so warm. Snow was coming. She could smell it in the air and almost feel the flakes landing on her eyelashes.

She grabbed her bike and a voice stopped her.

"Where are you going?"

She cast her head to he side only to acknowledge his presence.

"Barnes and Noble… or Borders… whichever has the better selection."

"What about Thanksgiving?"

"What about it," she grumbled, fingering the bell on the handle.

"You know what I mean," he responded crossly. "It's a holiday. You celebrate what you have and the people you care for. And it's a tradition."

She let go of her bike, which subsequently fell over, and turned to him.

"What tradition, Robin? The one where I blow out all of the windows in the tower or the one where we replace half the electronics the next day? What tradition is there for me? You can all be happy and enjoy yourselves, but that's _you_! That's _your_ tradition! What do _I_ have to be thankful for?"

Robin clenched his hands against his leg to keep himself from grabbing her, shaking her, losing his temper, something that she hated, that double standard she set for him but never applied to herself.

"I don't know, Rae, how about the fact that you're still alive, that your father hasn't taken over the world, that you have people that care for you and would risk their lives to keep you safe?"

"If I wasn't here, you wouldn't have had to risk your lives and my father wouldn't have tried to take over the world. What right do I have to be thankful for you guys when all I've done is put you in danger?"

She looked down at the ground, upset with herself and her powers. A rock by her foot shook and shattered, sending shards of granite flying. One cut the boy's hand but he merely stared at her furiously, his eyes stabbing through her.

"We're the damn Teen Titans, we live in Jump City!" he raged, grabbing his hair, shaking from the cold that touched his bare arms. A drop of blood slipped from his cut to his forehead, reminding her of how she marked them. "We live right next door to danger! So you can't fully control your powers, things have hurt us trying to get to you. No one gives a shit about that. What about me and Slade? You think that you're the only one who has had trouble with their dark side, the only who's loved ones have been hurt because of it? You're not alone, Rae, and you have a lot to be thankful for."

"_Do_ you? Are you _thankful _for all the shit that we've gone through because of me?"

"No, but I'm thankful for you. So will you just come inside?"

She was still, her body starting to quiver, her eyes frozen on him; his arms crossed and coiled, rubbing themselves to keep warm, his mask, the already dried line of blood. The only thing she didn't see, even with the eyes that saw through lies and deceit, was his love, self-acknowledged, admitted, and understood by everyone but her.

"Please, Rae? Just come inside… I swear you don't have to do anything… you don't even have to sit at the table. Just don't go."

But she shook her head and turned away, trying to hide her own sorrow from him.

"I'm sorry."

And she rode away, her hands frozen to the handle bar, trying to let herself ignore the sound of the slamming door and their breaking hearts.

-

(Titans Tower Common Room- 12:20 pm)

-

"Is he out of his room yet," Beastboy asked, taking another sip of water, washing down a slice of pizza.

"No, he's been in there for an hour. I doubt he's coming out anytime soon."

"Why? Why is there always drama whenever those two talk?! It's driving me nuts! He isn't even able to admit the fact that he's in love with her!"

"Easy, BB," Cyborg sighed, setting the oven to preheat. "He'll come out eventually. It's his favorite holiday."

"And he has already admitted that he possess feeling for her," the alien girl smiled, hanging mistletoe over a doorway.

"He has?!"

The two young heroes stared at her, mouths agape.

"Yes. I regret this… but I fooled him into it… I told him that I did not want him to court her because I thought he would not love her enough. I am sorry if this conflicts with your plan…"

Yet they embraced her and squoze her until she was the one who had trouble breathing.

"Difficulty… inhaling… release me please…"

"Starfire, you're a genius," Cyborg complimented, dropping the crushed alien girl on the couch. His mood dissipated however, when he faintly heard beeps and clicks coming from the research room. "He's out of his room… but now he's on the main computer… damn… I can't believe that I didn't think of that. He's not upset because they had a fight, he's upset because she won't be here."

"And who are you thankful for if not the person you're freakishly in love with," Beastboy confirmed, nodding.

"So why do we not confront him? It may help," the alien offered, draping a ribbon carelessly over a ceiling lamp. "After all, it would be better than doing nothing."

So walking with their shoulders high and heads parallel to the ground, they entered the research quarters and flipped on the lights.

"Robin, what's going on with you, man?"

"Nothing," he snapped, "Just looking up a criminal we put away, I want to know how his parole is going. I got a tip off that he might be involved with Control Freak's recent plan to zap the city's business buildings."

"That was a hoax and you know it Robin. They found that some dweeby nerd leaked that because he had nothing else to do. Now are you going to tell us why you're acting like this or is an intervention needed?"

"I suggest that you tell us, for I do not wish to intervene in your private affairs."

He shrugged and punched in a few keys, staring at the screen as an article came up.

"I'm just in a bad mood. That's it."

"No duh, you're in a bad mood, there has to be a reason. Come on, dude, you can tell us. I promise we won't tell Raven."

"Why would I care what she thinks…" he mumbled.

His grip on the mouse stiffened and the clicking pads began to push in from the pressure. Robin sighed and put it down.

"C'mon, man," Cyborg reasoned, resting a large hand over his shoulders. "We all know. Just tell us what happened."

"She doesn't want to join us for dinner. If she doesn't have any thanks to give then I don't see why we should try to get her back. Get dinner ready, continue decoration as normal."

"And if she does come back, don't you think she'll be upset to see us having Thanksgiving without her?"

"Yes, "agreed Starfire, " I think you are letting your own dejection get in the way of how much you care for her."

"She's a tough girl. She'll live."

Cyborg slammed his fist down, causing the computer to go dark. Robin turned to them slowly.

"Don't you think she has feelings?!" he screamed. "The whole reason she hates this holiday is because she doesn't think she deserves us, because she doesn't think she deserves _life. _You're upset she doesn't want to be here. We get it. Instead of hurting her and making her feel as if all the doubts she has about herself have been confirmed, why don't you do something about it?! Bring her back!"

Robin glared at him, yet he knew that Cyborg was right.

"We want her here too Robin," the green boy reminded him.

"…… Continue cooking and decorating. We won't eat until she gets back. I'm not going to force her into something. If she doesn't want to be here, that's her decision."

His stomach churned with discomfort.

But he preferred to lie to himself.

-

(Jump City Barnes and Noble- 2:33 p.m.)

-

She put yet another book back on the shelf, finding the summary even less entertaining than the previous one. She was running out of shelf space. Not one book had caught her eyes and she was already halfway through G. A few more minutes and she was leaving to go to Borders.

"Umm… excuse me?"

"What," she responded sharply.

"Are you Raven from the Teen Titans?"

"Yes. What, do you want an autograph or something?"

Raven looked up with bored eyes and found she had look down slightly. A girl of maybe fourteen leaned a shoulder against the bookcase and stared at her expectantly.

"No, I just… um, I just wanted to know what it's like to be a Titan."

"Why? Are you planning on joining us with powers you probably don't have? Sorry, but the roster for our noble quest against evil is full. Try next season," she droned.

"Actually, I wanted to know because… I'm doing a report on you for my school paper. My cousin works here and told me that you're in here a lot, so I've been coming here for the past few days. …Do you mind if I… um… if I interview you?"

Raven looked her up and down, inspecting her. She was short and had blonde hair, blue eyes and a nervous but kind smile. He clothes were plain: jeans and a graphic tee shirt, and nothing seemed overly impressive about her. A normal girl, rather boring, posed no matter of interest to Raven.

So that's why her response confused her.

"…Fine. We'll go sit by the window. I don't want anyone hearing."

The girl sighed with relief and grinned.

"I'll send you a copy of the article so you know what was written before it goes into print. Also, our school fact checker will try to contact you so everything is checked off as true."

"Sounds efficient. So where do we start."

The girl brought out a tape recorder and put it near her chin.

"How about introducing ourselves? I can go first if you'd prefer," she offered.

Raven nodded and looked out the window, staring at the ant sized people on the streets below.

"Ok. I'm Sophie Abrahms, I'm thirteen and I go to Joseph Abrahms High School for Performing Arts."

"Your dad runs the school?"

She nodded.

"Cool. Must be fun to have power like that."

"No…, no not really," Sophie shrugged, popping a tictac and offering one to the dark girl opposite her. "I get more pressure to have good grades, plus people don't really like to hang out with me since they think I'm my dad's lackey."

"Then those people aren't worth your time."

"I know. I have friends who trust me. I just wish there were more people like that. What can I say? The world's a bit of a bitch. Your turn. Remember, you don't have to answer anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"I'm Raven Roth, I'm sixteen and I am a member of the Teen Titans. I have telekinetic powers as well as telepathy and projective powers like teleportation and astral projection. I can do other things as well, though I don't use those much because I don't have as much control over things."

"And they are?"

"_They_ are none of your concern," she answered calmly.

Again, Sophie nodded and pulled the device near her again.

"You say your name is Raven Roth. Is that an alias?"

"No, I don't have an alias."

"Why is that," the blonde questioned professionally.

"How many other teenagers do you know with grey skin and purple hair? Even if I wore a mask or changed my name I would still stick out like a sore thumb."

"What's is daily life in the Tower like? What is your relationship with the other titans?"

Raven blinked, impressed by how quick and smoothly it was going. She was also surprised that she _was_ impressed and was having a good time.

"Well, on a day where we don't have training, which we have every other day, I wake up at about nine, eat breakfast, and read for a while. Then I probably meditate or train on my own time to keep my powers fine-tuned… sometimes we'll go out and chill or watch a movie or something like that, and then sleep. Training days are pretty much the same, except we wake up at six."

"And your relationships with the others?"

"Well… I suppose that Cyborg is the one that is the easiest to talk to, so it isn't hard trusting him. I suppose that you could call him a… big brother figure, since he looks after us."

"So he's mature?"

"What," Raven chuckled. "No, he isn't… on any standard or by any definition of the word. But he's oldest and he's a good listener, so we naturally go to him for advice. Beastboy is a menace, he is incredibly irritating. But I think he has the most faith in me as a person, so he isn't intolerable."

Sophie listened and smiled, delighted by the fact that Raven was so thorough.

"Starfire," Sophie asked.

"She isn't quite accustomed to life on Earth yet and is sometimes confused by our customs and our language, but she is very… smart," she strained, trying to find the right word, "so she is adapting very well. It's… interesting to spend time with her, though it takes a toll, since it's difficult for her to stay away from trouble. Is that all?"

"You're forgetting someone. Robin?"

Raven fell silent and pulled up her guard, for she had no idea what she and Robin's relationship _was_ exactly.

"I think… that he cares the most about me in a way. Not to say that the others don't. But we've dealt with similar issues, so we have a very unique… relationship."

She didn't mention how he seemed to understand her better than herself and how much she enjoyed his company. She didn't mention the nightmares of his death or how much she worried about him. She didn't mention that she felt safe and pure with him, or how he made her heart feel like it was going to combust, or how much she wanted to be able to smile for him. And she certainly didn't want to mention this to herself, even though she knew these facts to be true.

"Interesting," Sophie said into the mouthpiece, starting the young empath out of her thoughts. "What are five of your favorite things?"

"Blue, music, dogs, painting, and books," said quickly, not having to think for a second.

"What sort of music do you like?"

"Mostly rock and alterative rock, though I do like Jazz and blues as well."

"Do you like screamo?"

Raven made a face.

"Ugh, I can't stand it. It sounds like they're vomiting or eating something. I don't find being able to scream in a repulsive fashion a 'talent'."

"So whom do you listen to?"

"The Stones. A lot of The Stones. The Ramones. MSI, some of Aiden's songs. I find Amy Lee's voice very beautiful, so I really like Evanescence… hmm… I guess I like some Coldplay too. When I came here, I was really fascinated by gothic and punk culture, so I really came to love those genres."

"When it comes to music," Sophie enquired, popping another mint, again offering, "what or who is your guilty pleasure."

Raven sighed and blushed. "Taylor Swift."

"It seems to be so different from your tastes. What do you like about her?"

"Her songs are very real and aren't really about money or sex, they aren't corrupted but they don't have that uppity message that some of the more clean artists have. She sings in story, which I find to be like reading."

"Awesome. That's all, really."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Sophie stretched and stood, pocketing the device. Raven took another look at her a now found her different. She seemed… less nervous and more inquisitive, questioning, intelligent, and Raven found smiling softly, kind of glad that she had time to think and help someone without saving their lives.

"Do you know what time it is," Raven asked.

"Almost four. …Raven?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… well…I noticed that you aren't at the Tower for Turkey Day. Do… you want to join me and my friends? There aren't any adults and we chill and watch anime and different movies. We sometimes play D and D too. So if you have nowhere to go…"

Raven blinked.

"Why aren't you with your parents?"

"We kind of don't really get along with any of our parents, so we have our own celebration. Since we all get each other through, we celebrate each other for once rather than spend time thinking of our 'rents. After all, our parents are what keep us together. So, are you in?"

Raven smiled and shook her head.

"I have my own feast to get to. Give me your number, I want to see if your taste in movies is good."

"So were… friends?" asked the shorter girl, shocked.

"Maybe, if your movies are decent."

"By the way, if you were looking for a good book, you should read _Green Angel_ by Alice Hoffman. I think you might like it."

"What's it about?"

Sophie smiled.

"Love."

-

(Titan Tower Common Room- 6:13 p.m.)

-

"Turkey's done," Cyborg said sadly, pouting as he turned off the oven.

"And we are out of decorations," sighed the green eyes alien. She pointed to her ribbon-entwined hair. "I have even decorated myself."

"And I bought all of the tofu I need to get me through the winter."

They all stared out the window at the dark sky and the glowing cityscape, the blinking lights and festive ornaments a mocking and sour contrast to their woe.

Robin just turned over his paper and scoffed.

"What about _you_, Robin?" Beastboy challenged darkly. "What have you done? Typed away at the computer? Looked up villains that haven't even moved in the last four months? If you don't care if she comes back, why are you here? What, do you think denial is some band-aid, some magical tape that just fixes things? It doesn't, it just makes fake feelings."

"I assure you, all my _feelings _are completely legit. I'm pissed at her."

"No, you're pissed at you! Besides, you wouldn't be mad at anyone on Thanksgiving."

"First time for everything. Get off my back."

The green boy huffed and tore the newspaper out of his friend's hands.

"I'll give you back your paper and I'll get off your back if you say it."

"Say what?"

"Admit it, out loud, to all of us, in a full sentence, that you are in love with Raven. After that you can sulk to your hearts content."

"No."

And Robin had but a second to move before a bold of green singed where he had been.

"You _lied_ to me? You promised me that your loved friend Raven!"

Starfire, eyes aglow, hands blazing, stared at him along with her other teammates, furious.

"N- I never l-… why do you guys even care?! It's none of your business."

"Because, we love her too," Cyborg explained, pulling Robin's gloved hand, helping him stand. "And we care about you."

"Just fuck off."

"Say it."

"I said no!"

"Say it!"

"Leave it alone," he pleaded desperately, his words soblike and pitiful. "Just let me be! Please, just leave it alone."

"God damnit, Robin, just admit it!" Beastboy demanded, begging with him, for his friend, for his sister. He jerked the masked leader by his collar, fearful for the girl that he would hurt if could never say those words. Afraid of her heart and its fragility and how much she cared. He shouted. "Say it! To all of us! Now!"

"All right! …All right. "

He sunk onto the couch and ran his cold hands through his hair, breathing hard, leaning forward.

"Jeez, why is everyone so glum? It's Thanksgiving."

And as he was about to speak, he looked up, his heart jumping, restarting, at the sight of her, at her presence. She returned to them, to him. She sauntered in awkwardly, her posture conscious and bashful, her eyes staring at the floor. Her hair fell in front of her eyes and she bushed it away, taking an eyelash with it.

"I… I'm really sorry I ran away and made things hard for you guys… I understand if you don't want me here or if you want to have the feast without me, but… I just wanted to say… thanks. Even if you kind of hate me… just accept that I'm really sorry, I mean, I'm going for humility here."

And she was welcomed with green and robotic and orange arms, pulling her close, happy for her presence and her failed humility.

"We're just glad that you're home, Rae."

"Yeah," the changeling agreed. "It isn't Thanksgiving without at least one broken window."

"Friend Raven, do you like my decorating? I have worked very hard to put everything up correctly."

"I looks great."

"Oh, wonderful! May I trouble you with something else?"

Raven raised and eyebrow but nodded suspiciously.

"Would you like to accompany me and Chasen to the cinema on Saturday?"

Her breath hilted slightly as her jealousy began to swell, when a lightbulb flickered out above them, dimming the room. Raven gritted her teeth in frustration. She scolded herself for forgetting to meditate, for putting them all in danger.

"Actually Star," Robin said quietly his eyes focused on the dim bulb, "I was planning to help Raven learn and control some new powers that day. Maybe you guys can hang out some other time."

Star pouted, but Raven thanked him for quieting her jealousy, reminding her of the sunset and his care and the bandages around her healing wound.

"Seriously. What happened to you guys earlier? With the anger and the riding away?"

"Nothing really. Just talking."

He smiled her wryly.

"Way to be specific Boy Blunder. …Oh! Shit, I nearly forgot my olive branch."

She glided across the room and pulled a bottle from a bag, giving it to Cyborg.

"Rae… what's this?"

"My olive branch," she droned. "Just shut up and get some shots."

"Vodka," he deadpanned, disbelieving.

"Well alright, Raven," Beastboy shouted, impressed. "How'd you get it? You're only sixteen."

"It pays to have creepy powers. I tried my hand at some transfiguration. Turns out they don't question old ladies for ID."

So he ran of and grenadine and shot glasses, set them out on the coffee table and presented all of them with liquid confidence. They gathered around the small table, the turkey and sweet potatoes lonely and forgotten. He cracked his knuckles determinedly.

"Here's the rules, ladies and gents," explained the green transformer, "the game is truth or dare. We each take two shots to begin. Whoever starts spins the bottle and asks whoever it points to choose 'truth or dare'. Said person takes a shot and chooses. Anyone object?"

Robin raised his hand and they groaned.

"We're the Teen Titans. Don't you think this is a little wrong?"

"Robin, our job is to protect the city against villains and the great evils of the world. I don't think that teen drinking really falls into that category."

Robin stuck his tongue out at the young sorceress and laughed.

"Ready? One, two, three."

A green hand slammed down on the table and the festivities began.

Cyborg spun the bottle and smiled as it landed on his best friend.

"BB. Truth or dare?"

He lifted a shot to his mouth and winced as it burned down his throat.

"Truth."

"What's the farthest you ever got with a girl?"

"Upstairs outdoorsies."

"Who was it?"

"One question per customer, sorry."

He spun the bottle. And it landed on Raven. She gulped a bit.

"Truth or Dare, ma cherie?"

She downed her red shot and hardly blinked.

"Dare."

"Kiss Star."

So Raven leaned across the table and pecked the alien on the cheek, who giggled tipsily.

"You never said where."

But before she put her hand on the bottle, she felt a hand grab her wrist. She knew the hands to well to have to turn around.

"Can I talk to you? Alone?" asked a voice so controlled, so managed, Raven could taste the explosion waiting to happen.

She agreed and he pulled her out of the room almost gruffly. She shrugged at her friends as they watched her leave.

"So what is it? Do you want a personal apology? Or is it-"

He wound his arms around her tight and pulled her close, burying his eyes in her shoulder and weeping, shaking with tears and hurt and all the things he kept inside. He felt her stiffen in discomfort, from his grip and from his sadness, an emotion infectious to her. But he held on for dear life, because she was what kept him living. And as she relaxed and returned his embrace, she felt herself worrying for him, wanting to support him, an idea that scared her. She had always been the protected, and the role of guardian was a new concept.

But it was for him, so she flattened her inhibition.

"What's wrong, Bird Brain?"

But silence met her words.

"Come on, Robin," she pleaded softly, sinking to the floor. "Tell me what's wrong."

"My parents died on Thanksgiving. I was eight."

"I'm sorry."

"Someone cut their trapeze wires. They didn't have a net. I should have gone with them. I should be dead. But I was angry at them… refused…r-ref-"

"Take your time."

He smashed his fist against the wall, and sound echoed through the halls and rang in her ears. His fist, red and throbbing, wiped at his cheeks, pushed up the mask that slipped from the moisture.

"Fuck."

"Calm down. I'm not judging you." She held him close and closed her eyes, memorizing how he clung to her, how desperate he was for solace. It slid out of place once again, so looking away she pressed her finger to the corners and raised it to cover his eyes.

But when she looked back that mask was gone, lying, folded against the opposite wall. She averted her eyes, respectful and shocked by his trust.

"Raven, look at me."

She shook her head.

"Look at me!"

So she turned her head, because it was an order.

But uncharacteristically grey eyes stared back at her, anguished and pleading.

"C-come on, Robin," she stuttered atypically, "put on your mask."

"Do I look like a leader to you? Like this? Someone you have faith in to protect you?"

"Robin, I don't care about that! You are and will always look like a leader to me. How could I not trust you," she exclaimed. "You've protected me for years. Tell me. I trust you."

So he told her. He gave her his past, his broken heart, his pain and she held him all the while, rocking him, letting down her guard to let him in. And she cried along with him, pressing her forehead to his, sharing his grief and his memories. Her breaths were as unsteady as his and she wept, living for him and the moment.

"I don't want to go back," he whispered, his cheeks beginning to dry, sticky and warm.

"I think we have to. They've been waiting for half an hour. And BB's getting restless."

"Well some obedience training would do him good."

"I don't feel like cleaning rug if he has an accident."

"We could always stick his nose in it," he grumbled.

She didn't want to move either. She was comfortable, tangled in his embrace.

"I'm sorry I left. I didn't know about your parents."

"When you left it felt like I was losing you. The holidays have a habit of making me pathetic."

Raven disagreed, for it made her feel wanted and loved. So she pressed him tighter to her body and hugged him.

"Thank you," Robin said, closing his eyes, treasuring the feeling of her cool skin against him.

"For what?"

"For you."

And as her heart beat against her ribcage, she gently pressed his mask over his eyes and she stood, helping him up, and smiled, leading him back to the commons and the vodka.


	5. Slur

"Fury, can I talk to you?"

The heroine whipped her head up and winced as her forehead pounded and her body ached. She was beginning to think that her olive branch had more negative effect than positive. A boy of about seventeen with a mane of shaggy black hair stood over her, peering through stereotypically emo glasses, sporting a scowl as impatient as acid.

"Oh. Chase… what's going on?"

He frowned at her greeting but ignored it. She groaned and massaged the bridge of her nose, trying to soothe her pounding headache.

"Wow… you must have been seriously trashed last night. It usually takes you seven shots to get your drunk. … And isn't twelve hangover material for you," he laughed, but was silenced by the look she gave him, which threatened death with nary a blink. "Star and I were supposed to see a movie… but she isn't feeling well. Apparently, aliens don't have the best tolerance of alcohol. She's kind of… puking."

"Lovely," she drawled.

"My thought exactly."

"You wanted to talk," she asked hastily, the casualty of their conversation itching at her nerves.

He nodded and sat next to her, cautiously taking the book from her hands.

Old memories and regret hung stiff in the air, palpable and ominous.

"Are you ok with this, me and Star… dating and everything?"

She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes, trying to block out the lights that burned them.

"So it's official. She's now definitely your girlfriend."

"Yeah," he smirked. "…Yeah."

"So she isn't just some throw away you're going to fuck until you can find the scene-kid of your dreams?"

"C'mon, Fury. You know I wouldn't do that."

"Really? Don't I remember you having a habit of going through girls like you go through skinny jeans?"

"That was a months ago. People can change. You know how serious you and I were." He crossed his arm defensively.

"I also know how hard you had to try to be loyal to me. Monogamy doesn't exactly come easy to you."

He sighed and leaned his head back.

"I really don't want to have a fight, Fury. I treat Star really well."

"Will you stop calling me that," she requested frigidly, downing a glass of water.

" …?"

"The name… will you stop calling me the name? Fury. We aren't dating any more."

He stood and stretched.

"I will, but you never answered my question. Star, me. Is it bueno?"

"It's fine, as long as she's happy."

"And me?"

"As far as I'm concerned," she said matter-of-factly, "you're no one but my friend's boyfriend. We can start over as friends if you would prefer, but our connections got cut a long time ago."

She pulled the blanket closer to her skin and hoped that he wouldn't notice the water that was boiling without heat. She whispered her mantra into the comforter and looked up. He stared at her.

"…You're different," he concluded with a nod.

"How?"

"You aren't as… I dunno… you don't look as tired. Or you aren't as angry or… something. A year ago you would have bitten my ear off or sent me flying out a window… but you're talking to me."

"I reset my priorities. I'm controlling things better. Negative emotion used to control my powers and the positive used to unhinge them. By reforming my meditation, I balanced things out, made it easier to be normal. Thing are getting easier gradually… it's getting better."

"F-… Rae, I need to tell you something and I need you not to throw me against a wall."

She peered at him, suspicious, and raised an eyebrow waiting.

"That guy, Robin. I don't trust him and I don't like how close you are with him."

"You don't trust Robin… the hero of jump city… the guy that has probably saved your ass a thousand times without you really realizing it," she scoffed. "Yeah, that's completely understandable.

He sat up straight and grabbed her shoulders holding her gaze intently.

"I'm not saying he's evil… or… or a bad person. But I dunno… maybe… maybe he's a little _too_ good, Rae. I mean, you're the daughter of evil. What if you're demon side gets loose?"

Raven glared at him and shook off his hands.

"That's already happened and he basically jumped into hell to save me. He's a _good person._"

"I just saying, Raven," he said tiredly, rubbing his forehead, "he's weird. The way he looks at you… like he's calculating something or sizing you up… like… like you're a game to him. Something for him to figure out. Just be careful before you go falling for him."

She blinked and opened her eyes wide. She winced as the light stung her eyes and made her head pulse and throb.

"The likelihood of that happening is basically how likely it is for a penny to land on it's ridge. He's my leader and my friend. That's all."

"Are you sure about that? You might want to think it over. Just don't trust someone who shouldn't be trusted."

"For the last time, Chase, he's trustworthy."

"The way he-"

"Enough!"

Black closed around the boy's neck and tightened as he began to sputter and cough, his hands pulling at the intangible ring around his throat, gasping, pleading for air. She slammed him against the floor, snarling, her eyes white and pupiless. Hands grasped her arms and lowered them.

"Raven, stop!"

Her eyes widened and stared into the worried mask, her violet irises returning, fearful, before her legs gave out and she collapsed, unconscious and red-handed.

Chasen backed against the couch, terrified, and scrambled out of the room, a hand on his neck.

"Cy! Cyborg! Beastboy! Titans!!!"

But no one came. He had forgotten it was Saturday. He forgot that Saturday meant that they were normal, and the Tower was to be recklessly abandoned by everyone but him and Raven.

So he skillfully pulled her onto his back and slowly carried her up the stirs, only to realize that taking the elevator would have been infinitely smarter since her room was on the top floor. So he opened the door to his room and set her down in his bathtub.

Opening the mirror, he pulled out his first aid kid and wet a towel. Wringing out the extra moisture, he put it to the side and drew out the smelling salts, waving them under her nose, cringing at the harsh sting that it gave his eyes. She moaned quietly and shifted and stilled again, asleep once more. He sighed and picked up the salts once more.

But curiosity stopped him. Her beauty stopped him.

He made sure his hand was sturdily placed on the edge, carefully leaned over, and tenderly rested his lips on hers. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would feel like if she kissed him back, but she began to stir, so he backed away and dabbed the towel against her forehead. Her eyes slowly opened and blinked before squinting shut immediately.

"Ugh, turn off the light! Hangover! Hangover!"

"Oh! Sorry!"

He reached out and slapped the switch down, and sat in the blue of the darkened bathroom.

"Thanks."

"…."

"What? What happened?"

"Well, you sort of strangled Chasen."

"…Oh. Well he deserved that," she shrugged.

"And then you fainted."

He paused and bit his lips, trying to keep his emotion undetectable. She twisted her fingers into knots, a nasty side effect of all that pent-up guilt.

"Rae… did you notice that there weren't any broken objects from last night?"

"Oh?"

"And you' weren't exactly contained either. Quite drunk in fact."

"How drunk?"

"You were dancing."

"Oh _fuck_," she groaned, a self-bemused grin on her face.

He sat on the edge and dabbed the cloth against her cheek, cooling and distracting her from her hangover. She offered a small smile in thanks.

"I was thinking-"

"Wow,"

" Oh, haha." He continued, "You know how anger used to control your emotions when your dad was still in there?"

"I seem to be able to remember that."

"Well I've noticed something, when you dream, you can usually feel, right?"

She nodded slowly, blushing a bit.

"Nothing blows up either in your dream or out of your dream. And nothing blew up when you were drunk," he said. "So maybe things only blow up when you're thinking about how to control your powers, maybe it only happens when you're conscious of your feelings. Does that make sense?"

"Conceivably. But I'm worried that if I work on this I could hurt people. Plus I have to find a day when I have free time and not a hangover."

"Fortunately, I whipped up some magic hangover milkshake when I got up."

"No free time," she countered.

He grinned evilly,

She scowled back.

"You forget that today is Saturday. You agreed to work on your powers. Besides, you owe me. I saved you from the cinema, you save me from… well… whatever. You owe me."

She stared at him, testing her will, but he was right. And she cracked.

"We'll train in the desert. But _you're_ getting me the milkshake," she yawned, swallowing the painkiller he gave her.

"The desert? You're just thinking of training your powers. We're not going to the desert, we're going to a club."

"A club? … I don't dance. Or I avoid it as much as possible. Plus, there are people there! You're treating this as if it's completely trivial."

"I'm going to be there with a sedative if things get really out of hand. This way we know instantly if it works or not."

"………Fine. But I'm not going to have any fun."

-

(9:05 p.m.)

-

Raven hated herself for this.

First because she was going along with his plan and second…

Well second because she couldn't say no to him. Because she was afraid that Chasen was right. Robin was her friend, her _best___friend. And sure, they flirted on the occasion, but they were two teenagers who were obviously too dark, too preoccupied, and too socially maladroit to have a serious romance. They understood each other too much; they were too similar, too…

Nothing came to mind. She couldn't think of one reason that they wouldn't work or shouldn't be together.

But she shook her head of the ridiculous thought and went through her wardrobe once more.

And the fact that she was trying to look pretty for him didn't sit well with her either.

'You could always always wear the dress.'

"Don't you think that would be trying a little too hard, Bravery?"

'You are trying hard. So if you're trying hard, you might as well succeed. Now, the dress?'

She went to the back of her closet and pulled the garment out slowly, repulsed by her impulsiveness. But then again, that was what the wretched evening was about wasn't it?

Zipping it open she cringed at its vibrancy. The red dress stared back at her, the crimson joy mocking her absolute despondency.

But she stripped, and pulled it on, donning her converses to add a tiny bit of comfort to her already sour mood.

-

Robin thought himself a genius.

Not only had he discovered a potentially brilliant way to control Raven's powers, but he also got a date out of it.

Or at least he thought himself brilliant until she walked through the door, because at that point he forgot how to speak, breathe, and function as a human being.

"You ready to go, Birdbrain," she grumbled, rubbing her arm self-consciously.

"Uh… what?"

And as he finished that particularly brilliant sentence he was pushed out of the way by Cyborg and Beastboy, who were particularly fascinated by her choice of apparel.

"Dude! You look… dare I say it… hot!"

"Raven, you didn't tell me you had a dark side," Cyborg joked, prodding the fuming girl in the arm. "Well, I'll be damned. You do indeed look rather spiffy. "

"Agreed, dear friend, you do certainly look beautiful. If I were not sick, I am sure I would have had much fun tonight at the club of enjoyment, yet I am afraid that I would have been out shined by your radiant aura."

Robin watched from a distance as the girl's cheeks began to turn exponentially redder with her growing impatience and embarrassment. He laughed to himself, and took his keys out of his pockets, playing with them, giving himself time to breathe and collect himself, to get the teenage hormones out of his system. After all, though he was a hero, he was a teenager nonetheless, and when presented with his dream girl's bare legs, his mind wasn't exactly on the task ahead of him.

"Can we please go," the violet eyed girl pleaded, more willing to go to a club than hang around and have two idiots poke fun at her.

He dangled his key in front of her eyes and smiled cruelly.

"Open the garage and take a helmet."

"You're hilarious. We're flying there."

"You're in a red dress that stops above the knee. Don't you think the press would catch that? After all, you can't flash all of Jump City and get away with it."

"I'd rather be humiliated than dead," she growled venomously. "You drive like a madman on crack. How many times have you totaled that bike? I don't want my skull to be in the same condition as your headlights."

"I won't stand for our reputations to be soiled by your panty party, Rae-Rae," he countered smoothly, pausing only to laugh at her melting composure. "Go on, grab a helmet. You can have the cool black one that makes you feel like a racecar driver."

She waved a quick (and rather disgruntled) goodbye to her comrades and followed him into the garage, taking the helmet he shoved into her arms and inspecting it, for scuffs, marks, breaks, and anything she could use to question his credibility. But it was pristine, spotless, and Raven grumpily tugged on the gear and sat behind the Boy Wonder. She felt her evening whither as the engine revved.

"You'll like it. Trust me."

"I'm having trouble believing that."

"Just wrap you arms around me and don't let go," he instructed soothingly, taking her hands and bringing them around his torso. They both flushed slightly at the contact. But it wasn't like they hadn't touched before, so they hissed at themselves and tried to focus on other things, Raven trying to deny the obvious, and Robin keeping his mind in the wheels.

The wheels spun against the asphalt with a furious roar, screeching, screaming, sending them hurtling into the night. Raven gulped and clung to him in shock, her eyes praying to be close but forced open in terror and delight. The city sped behind them, buildings fleeing, lights becoming streaks of yellow, red, green, orange and white, rainbow like and dangerous. So, picking up on her excitement and apprehension, he wrung his hand around the throttle and swerved in front of a truck, laughing as she shrieked.

"Having fun?"

"No!" she shouted over the streets.

But he knew she was smiling.

"You're lying you're ass off."

"I'm not. You're driving sucks!"

"You're smiling," he nagged, nudging her with his back.

"I'm the farthest thing from happy."

"Do I have to turn my head to prove it?"

She gripped him tighter. "Don't… you…dare."

So they drove, him mocking, her threatening (well, actually, he did threatening as well), enjoying each other's voices and presence. And Raven, leaning into his back, forgot how scared she was, and allowed herself to acknowledge the butterflies, they way _he _made her smile, they way he made her value herself, value life, and how she always felt so weak yet so strong whenever he looked her way.

She was done running from herself. This night would be her testament to her bravery and strength. So she breathed in the tingle of snow in the air and imagined the flakes drifting down, and she felt genuinely excited.

The motorcycle slid calmly into a parking space and stopped, the kickstand set and poised for duty. He took her hand in his and guided her into the club, marveling at her dress, her body, her scent… all that drove him wild with lust and love and the pure need for all that she was.

He was a fool for her. So it didn't matter if he didn't say it aloud, because he knew what was in his heart.

The club pulsed fiery with bass, the speakers sending rhythmic pheromones through the atmosphere, which smelled of sweat, perfume, cigarettes, and alcohol. Raven sniffed and wrinkled her nose, but found that it hypnotized her, made her slightly numb. She took a seat next to Robin at the bar.

"Do I have to transfigure into an old lady? Or are you one of those special rich kids?"

"Yes to the latter, no to the former. But you shouldn't drink tonight. It would alter the variables."

"I'm not a guinea pig, Robin," she stated dryly, a wry smirk stretching across her face. But as he stared, her smirk faded, and her resolve did too. "Fine. Let's just… talk?"

"Sure."

"What… What kind of music do you listen to?"

"Classic Rock, Oldies. New stuff doesn't really appeal to me that much I prefer the good old Stones, Patty Smith, Led Zeppelin, …and Cohen. These people were lyrical geniuses. They just know how to _rock_."

"Agreed. But Led Z annoys me, they're music sounds… generic. But you don't like the Killers, Arctic Monkeys? No new stuff at all?"

"Arctic Monkeys are _decent_. But… it seemed like they're _trying_ to be punk, I mean punk music has become such an affectation, we forget about the movements that started it."

"Robin, a music snob? I thought that you didn't judge," she teased. "You must have something that you like that you should hate. A guilty pleasure?"

He rested his jaw on his palm and stared at her as if inspecting something.

"You first," he challenged, beating his fingertips against the wooden barstool.

"Taylor Swift."

"Taylor Swift? You like _Taylor Swift_?"

"Her songs are good."

"But _Taylor Swift_," he said, astonished. "Her music is just… empty fluff!"

"Shut up. I know you jerk off to Our Song. You see, you think I don't know these things, but sometimes you leave the door open just a crack…"

"Oh, you comedian."

"You never answered, Bird Boy. Guilty Pleasure. Now. I'm not asking you for an explanation. Well… If it's really bad I might."

She ordered a ginger ale and stared at him, intently devious and clever.

"I'm never guilty about my taste in music." But he watched her eyebrow rise doubtfully and sighed. "I like… Panic at the Disco…"

Raven clasped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, but it leaked, fleeing, in short sputter bursts, building into a full on fit for hilarity.

"They're lyrics are _good_," he exclaimed defensively, trying not to notice how infectious her laughter was. "You said you wouldn't question me."

"I'm not criticizing am I?"

"Yeah, But you aren't exactly making me feel like a million bucks."

"It's not that they're bad. Granted, I don't like them, but they're so… anti-Robin. Whatever happened to the affectation that music has become? They seem particularly gimmicky and just a little… feminine."

"You listen to a country pop-princess."

"Emo band."

"Teenage fluff."

"Overly Metaphorical lyrics."

"Touché," they smirked.

They were silent for a long time, just sitting, watching the dancers, watching each other inconspicuously (or trying to), turning their heads when the other tried looking again.

-

(Titans Tower Research Room, 10:02 p.m.)

-

"I feel guilty," Beastboy admitted, typing at the keys.

"Of course you do," Cyborg shrugged, his eyes glued to the computer screen, "you were an asshole."

"So were _you_."

"No, I was supportive. I encouraged him. You… shouted in his face."

The green boy swiveled in his chair, turning his back to the monitor.

"Starfire was mean as well."

"Yeah, but she you know she gets touchy when she discovers that Robin isn't perfect. You just got pissed."

"He needed to say it."

"You're right," Cyborg said.

He stood and turned off his monitor, pushing in his chair and walking out the door, holding it open for his friend.

"Make up your mind. Was I an asshole or was I right?"

"You were right… but you were an asshole. You were making sure Robin could say it out loud, but you pressured him into it."

"I was a jerk."

"He needed to be jerked."

"I still feel guilty."

"Good. I was worried that you didn't have a conscience."

-

(Drop Night Club, Jump City South, 10:09 p.m.)

-

"Want a cigarette," the man offered, drunkenly leaning on the table. She pushed her chair back in disgust.

"No thanks," she said stoically, praying that Robin would return from the bathroom soon.

"How about a drink?"

"Really. No thank you."

"Would you-"

"I'm fine," she snapped. "Thank you."

"Thh-… thank me with a dance."

Raven shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her social awkwardness rendering her defenseless. So she just scooted away, her trying to stay invisible and boring, trying to somehow make her exotic pale skin and dark violet hair average and plain. She smirked sullenly at the whole irony of the situation, not knowing how to behave when her usual coldness was exactly what was required. She left some money on the bar and walked away, trying to outwalk the drunkard.

But he was persistent. Eerily so. And she found herself panicking slightly, momentarily forgetting that she had powers that could kill him within seconds. He lunged and stumbled, but grasped her arm, pulling himself up. His breath reeked of triple sec and gin, and something she couldn't identify.

"Let. Go." She commanded, staring him down eyes born of hate.

But he was too far past the line of coherency to realize who she was, so he just smiled stupidly and continued to offer her things, favors, stupid compliment that only contributed further to her repulsion.

She was frozen, both from disgust… and her role to protect the innocent… even if they were sinning shamelessly.

"Please. I want you to let go," she told him in a voice so solid and stonelike it stopped him in his tracks, his arm locked stiffly in place.

"Will you just let her go, please? My friend is really very shy."

Raven turned and smiled in thanks to the man who helped her. He brushed his blonde hair back with his fingers and gazed casually at the man, who gazed right on back, the clammy hand loosening, letting the mage's arm fall to her side.

"Thanks, mate."

The drunkard nodded and blinked slowly, traveling slowly to a table, collapsing in a chair, and pulling out a cell phone, which seemed to distract him enough to let Raven forget about him.

"Thank you," she muttered. "But I had it under control."

"You're welcome…?"

She nodded and spun on her heel, making a beeline for her barstool.

"Wait."

But she didn't.

The fact that he was a decent human being didn't mean that she would hang around and let him think that he was superior because he didn't think chivalry was dead. She worked hard for who she was and she wasn't about to give any gratitude to some guy who thought she needed saving.

She could accept help.

She could thank people.

But that didn't mean she needed to do either. Because she could take care of herself.

So she took her seat and wondered what was possibly taking her comrade so long. And she felt her anger bubble as she saw him in the corner, talking to an attractive and petite redhead, grinning, laughing, talking, being, all things that he should have been doing with her.

And it still wasn't snowing.

Her testament to her courage was beginning to seem like a flop.

"Give me two glasses of the strongest thing you have," she grumbled crabbily to the bartender.

If she was supposed to feel emotion tonight, uncensored real emotion, jealousy was not one of those emotions she wanted to deal with. If he wanted to ruin things for her, the least she could do was ruin his test. She winced as she swallowed and swallowed, the alcohol sinking down, burning her throat, until both glasses were empty and her gratitude was on the table. She sat.

And waited.

And waited.

For him to return, so she could piss him off, for him to return, so he could feel her hurt, even if it was slurred by the alcohol.

Her mind began to mist and slow, and Raven's last purely sober thought was of how pathetic she was; resorting to liquor to solve her problems, as if she was one of those morbidly obese stock brokers who cheat and take their clients to topless bars, as if she was one of those hookers that she had to pick off the streets on civilian duty.

She shrugged off the hand that tapped her back.

"Hey, sorry I took so long. There was this guy who gave me a little trouble."

"Like what, a blowjob," she asked icily, her courtesy for him hindered by her increasing intoxication. "I'm not stupid, Boy Blunder. If you're going to ditch me, don't lie about it."

"Lie, who-… her? No, no, no. She was the _sister_ of the guy that gave me trouble, this guy did a Killer Moth and tried to hook me up with her."

Raven felt her stomach drop in guilt.

"So are you okay? You look really flushed?"

"N-no, I'm fine… just a… little hot," she spoke slowly, trying to mask her shame and her disobedience.

"Oh. Do you want-"

His eyes found the glasses, and his mask wrinkled with his furrowed brow.

"I told you that you couldn't drink."

"I didn't think you were coming back. I didn't… didn't… think that it mattered any more."

"Why didn't you come and _ask_ me."

"I was angry," she answered plainly, trying to speak as simply and as little as possible.

"C'mon," he barked, grabbing her wrist gruffly. "We're going home."

Her jerked her arm, causing her to stumble off her barstool, giggling a little. He pulled her out of the club almost savagely, his care and worry for her either intensified or flattened. He tossed her coat at her and glared as she bent to pick it up. She staggered towards him, rubbing her arms.

"Can we go? … It's cold."

"We'll talk first."

"Why can't we talk… ow… talk when we get back to the tower?"

"Because by the time we get there you'll be drunk off your ass, …besides… the cold keeps you sober."

She shook her head roughly, her hair frizzing slightly.

"No. I'm freezing. Please."

"You'll live," he said, an almost cruel twist in his voice. "You can't do this anymore. First the olive branch, now this? It's irresponsible. What would happen if we got an alert at this very moment? You could put yourself in danger. You could put the city in danger."

"W-… why do you even care?" she whined, clumsily sitting down on the ground. "You… you don't care about me anyway. Just this stupid city. Only y-your job."

"Of course I care about you."

"No, you care about yourself… just like Chase."

He sighed and ran his hand though his hair. Grabbing her under her arm.

"Raven, get up."

But she leaned back and yawned.

"Raven… get up!"

"Stop it!" She shouted, smacking his hand away. "Just leave me alone! Stop doing this to me."

"Doing what?"

But she looked away, her eyes focused on her palm. Robin, focused, confused, pulled her up and walked her to the R-cycle and let her lean against it, her eyes avoiding him. She began to shiver, but her jacket remained in her hand.

"Rae, what's wrong. I don't care about the drinks, okay? It's no big deal. Just tell me what's wrong."

She shook her head again.

"C'mon, Rae," he hushed quietly, flattening her hair and tucking it behind her ears.

She turned to him, staring at the mask that was only an inch from her face.

"Kiss me."

Robin blinked and took a step back.

"What?"

"Kiss me."

"No. You're drunk."

"I'm not an idiot," she stated, staring at him with surprising sobriety. "I maybe drunk… but I'm not stupid. I'm str-… I'm straight enough to know what I want. And I want you… to kiss me."

He Pput her jacket over her shoulders and kept his eyes away from her.

"Do you not _want_ to kiss me?"

"What I want has nothing to do with this," he strained against clenched teeth. "You're drunk. That would be taking advantage of you. I'm not going to do that."

"God, Boy Blunder… hasn't…ugh… anyone ever told you that chivalry is dead? I'm not expecting you to be sensitive. I'm asking you to take advantage of the situation."

"Put on your helmet. We're going home."

"No. Say you don't want to kiss me, and I'll back off. But I'm tired of being lied to."

"I don't want to kiss you."

And she looked stunned.

And it began to rain.


	6. Games and Gambles

"Raven… isn't talking to me…"

"No… really? I actually haven't noticed that at all."

"Thank you Cyborg. Your sarcasm is extremely helpful."

Robin paced around the couch, his hands twisted behind his back. Eyes, focused on the ground, blinked, fluttered, trying to think of some way to get her to understand. But the only way for that to happen was for him to break down her walls (and the literal was possible), tell her to her face, and _make _her understand. But he was respectful of both her privacy and her ability to kill on contact. So he went for the plan that was doomed to fail: waiting for the storm to pass.

"She's been going to that club every night for, like, three days. She cares about you. If she didn't, she wouldn't be doing this. Just talk to her."

"And if she doesn't forgive me?"

"What's there to forgive? You were making sure she didn't have any regrets. You were being… noble? Is noble the right word for that? I mean you must have been tempted so it couldn't have been all _that _noble."

"You aren't helping," Robin stated plainly, his hands running through his hair out of habit.

Cyborg shrugged and returned to his video game.

Robin needed air. Robin needed to breathe. So the roof was a risk he was willing to take.

But he should have remembered how much he hated being wrong. Because as soon as he opened the door she was running for it, trying to push past him, trying to pretend that he was spectral and non-existent. He was too real for her to deal with. As was her rejection.

It was fuzzy, but she remembered it. How hurt she felt, how much she wanted him and the snow, and how that endless pouring rain pummeled the tower and any hope she had left. And his face reminded her of that night.

"Why haven't you been talking to me," he asked quietly, blocking her exit.

But she just kept pushing.

"You've been avoiding me, avoiding everyone. You missed an alert while you were out _dancing_. You're lucky it was only Kitten. I'm glad that the experiment works and you can express and whatnot, but you can't just abandon your duties."

She was unrelenting, for she wanted what was left of her heart to stay whole.

"Rae, don't go. Just… stay here… you don't even have to talk to me. I don't like fighting with you Rae."

"I'm meeting friends."

He sighed.

"Why are you mad at me?"

But she didn't answer, because she gave one final push and was out of sight.

So Robin gave up on fresh air, for her escape had taken away any hope of… well, hope. With melancholy feet and a heart that felt like lead, he dragged himself into his room with what little energy he had left. Suddenly, the task of making her understand seemed harder than fighting of twelve Trigons.

Robin looked around his room as if it had all the answers. He used to come to his room to think, to clear his head and fill it again with mysteries and puzzles, the things that kept him alive. But as he grew more and more fatigued with his 'quest', the room lost it's life as well. Now it was only what it was. A room. Not a dojo, not a crime lab, not even a workspace. Just where he came to sleep, read, and ponder the trivial. As if he was just a teenager and it was just a room.

So he fell onto his bed and pretended that every thing was okay.

Even though it wasn't.

He tried to sleep, because that's the only thing that seemed as if it would help. But it never came, and he found himself tossing and turning, even though the sky was dark and the blankets were warm.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. Everything about her was memorable. Her scent, how soft her skin was, the texture of her hair, her wit… she was so impressive and intelligent and Robin had no idea what to do with himself.

He sat and listened to the footsteps in front of the door and called a 'come in.'

"Are you Ok?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it," Beastboy offered, changing into a rabbit. "I'm all ears."

"I don't even know what to do. At all… and it's driving me mad," the masked boy divulged, hoping (however unlikely it was) that his comrade could impart on him the pearl of wisdom that he so desperately yearned for.

"I need to know one thing. And I need you to say it out loud. Are you in love with Raven?"

"Yes," he said automatically.

He blinked, surprised at his leader's sureness, when less than one week prior he had to be bullied into a confession that was cut short.

"Um… seriously?" Beastboy questioned incredulously, unsure if he was telling the truth. "'Cause you seemed a little… conflicted… last time I asked you…"

He nodded confidently, not a single whiff of deceit or betrayal detectable. The shape shifter sat, satiated and somewhat complacent.

"Okay then. Doctor Gar is open for business."

Robin relaxed into his chair, glad to have someone who was trying to help him.

"I'm really worried about her," she confessed. "She's been going out to that club everynight and-"

"You _do_ know why she's doing that, right?"

He shook his head.

"You're some freaky boy detective, I'm just some super-powered vegan, and_ I'm_ the one who's the genius? Hold on, I need to take this moment in. ………Okay. So! My theory, which _does not_ involve any armies or conspiracies, is that she is trying to replace the feeling you could have given her with adrenaline."

"So you're saying that she's trying… to make me jealous… of… dancing. So she's going to try and hook up w-"

"Will you stop trying to solve things? I'm giving you my idea straight and simple, no trickety-trick, no nonsense, nothing to over-analyze! I'm saying exactly what I'm saying. That Raven is trying to replace what you made her feel with a different feeling. Since she found a loophole in her powers, she's going somewhere where feeling doesn't hurt."

"But… she said she was going to hang out with friends…" Robin said meekly.

"Since when does Raven have friends?"

". . ."

He was slowly realizing the truths of the matter: her hurt her, whether his actions were valiant or not.

He shook his head, which rested in his hands, and groaned with distress and fear. Fear of losing her, fear of his own nature, his blindness to others thoughts, fear of the parallel of his reality: a world where he was alone and she wasn't his, a world that seemed to be coming closer with every passing breath.

"Woah man, chill out. It's fixable. Just… kiss her."

But Robin said no. He was too much of a romantic… he would wait for her to return, corner her, and sweep her off her feet.

Beastboy stared at him, annoyed, worried, and fed up with his friend.

"You're planning aren't you," he growled, resisting the urge to transform and claw at him, howling.

"Well it isn't as if I'm j-"

"Will you _listen_ to yourself?! You act as if she's a game to you! Has it for a second crossed your mind what's best for her? While you stall and prey and strategize, she's losing hope. While you're off playing Prince Charming, you're _hurting_ her!"

"Why do you even care?!"

"Because she's the closest thing I have to my sister and the person holding the team together," he raged. His fists balled and clenched, the skin trying to sedate his claws. "Because I care about her as a person… not a prize."

Robin, desperate to fight back, halted. Beastboy was right. And the guilt came crashing down.

Who was he to toy with battle plans and tactics, treating the whole situation as if he was working on a case?

He, suddenly realizing that he was standing, fell onto his bed and, with eyes unmoving, focused on his ceiling, wondering how he was _ever_ going to win the heart of the girl he loved, when he didn't even know how to treat her as a girl.

"I'm going to find her. I'm going to tell her," he decided, pulling on his jacket and snatching his keys from the bedside table. He was out in a flash, running towards the garage. The green miscreant had to turn feline in order to catch up.

"Dude! Wait! I'm coming with."

"No, you're not. Sorry, but I kind of want to be _alone_ with the her while I pour my heart out."

"Oh… right. Just don't forget… if you have to chase her… do it because of what you feel for her, not for the fun of the chase."

Robin consented and mounted the motorcycle, his hands itching to wring the throttle, thirsting for rev.

"Good luck."

"I'm gonna need a lot more than luck, but… thanks. If I don't come back with her… kick me."

Beastboy nodded, perfectly happy with his leader's orders, coughing with the exhaust of the engine.

-

-

-

The night was really dark. The kind of night that swallows you whole and frightens you. No clouds, but no stars, just a smoggy horizon and a strangely empty highway.

But he couldn't afford to notice it or let it scare him. It was just a sky, just the way that hornets are just insects. If you ignore them, they wont bother you, just beg for attention. So he rode into the enveloping darkness, his mind clear and focused on the mission ahead.

It took him too long for his liking, for his luck with traffic came to a halt. So he zipped carefully between cars, swerving in and out of lanes. But he was soon perched outside of Drop, and he could smell the sweat already.

So he pulled at the icy handle, opening the door and stepping inside.

She wasn't hard to find. Her skin almost glowed under the lights, her skin turning blue then green, yellow, red, and again, blue. He stopped dead, slumping into a seat. She was incredible, passionate and mesmerizing, completely absorbed in the music.

She was smiling. Faintly and to herself only, but she was nonetheless. He knew his task, and he knew that he had to be either very quick or very stealthty.

But for the moment, he wanted only to watch her dance. Because she looked unusually peaceful and happy. And he was going to ruin it for her.

Nonetheless, she was a Teen Titan, so the loss of happiness was something she was used to.

About to stand, Robin slid his seat in, tucking it away, hidden under the table. Only to see Raven coming towards him, her sweaty forehead shimmering with the lights. He ducked behind the table.

"I'm surprised to see that you still come here."

The hero let out a breath, relieved that she wasn't walking towards him… and began to wonder why he was hiding. As he began to rise, he realized that it was a definite male voice that was talking to her, making him pause.

"I've been here for the past four days. You shouldn't be."

"I was expecting Robin to stop you."

"It isn't his place to do so."

"You seem tenser than usual."

She sighed, shifting a little. Robin tried to ignore the sight of her bare legs.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "things have been strange. I used to be able to talk to him. It was almost as if… he was my best friend. Then, I got this cut from Angel, he taped it up, things changed."

"Forget about him. Let me buy you a drink," the man offered, grabbing her hand.

"No," she refused, shaking off his hand.

"C'mon. I mean, I'm not some sleaze. We've already hooked up-"

"The only reason I kissed you was because I owed you. You saved me from that guy on the first night, I saved you from the tramp."

"It's just a drink!"

"And I'm _just _a titan," she retorted, disbelieving and annoyed. She huffed, closed her eyes, and brushed a misplaced tress behind her ear.

Raven glanced at the moon, hoping, that maybe if she just _wished_ enough, her "friend" would just shut up and fade away. But when she opened her eyes, he was still sitting on that damn barstool in that damn club just staring at her, whittling away at her patience.

Chivalry seemed positively extinct.

"If I get an alert and I'm drunk, I would set back my team, be unable to protect the city, and possibly endanger it. If you are that desperate, go look for blondie. I'm not interested."

"You know I didn't mean it like that. You're my friend, Raven."

"I may be your friend, but you aren't mine. I've known your for half a week. You are not. My. Friend."

"Jesus, chill out. Don't get angry with me. I just wanted you to have a good time."

She ordered herself a seltzer and drummed her fingers on the table, impatient, brooding, and very uncomfortable.

"What do you think we _are_," she asked bluntly, condescending and sharp, as if she was dealing with an idiot.

He shrugged, staring at his beer. "We have fun. We dance, party… whatever. It isn't something serious, but… I like spending time with you. I mean, you're funny, smart, you're fucking hot… yeah. Whatever. I guess… I dunno, I mean, I would _like_ to take you on a date…"

"_Fuck_, Travis!"

"What?!"

"You're so retarded…" she groaned softly, gazing at her half empty glass. "I thought you knew what I wanted."

Robin shifted, trying to move discreetly, keeping his ears open.

". . ."

". . ."

"How could I know what you want Rae? All we do is dance. If we talk, I'm drunk. Or we talk while dancing."

"That's what I want! No ties. I don't want to be your friend. I don't want to know you, or your favorite things, or anything directly related to you. I want nothing. Just partying. That's all. …And I told you not to call me Rae."

"Why," Travis demanded, running a hand through his blonde hair, flipping it.

"I don't need to give you any explanations. I don't have one."

"I meant why can't I call you Rae?"

"Because only friends call me that."

She pushed the empty glass to the bartender, signaling for a refill. She breathed deep. The lights stung her eyes and numbed the sound her ears. But it helped. It helped distract her. It made her feel good. Happy… almost happy. But she couldn't forget him, she had tried, but there was too much that had happened between them for her to do so.

So she leaned in close to her not-friend and closed her eyes, pretending the world away.

She was kissing Robin and snow fell around her, on her shoulders, eyelashes, in her hair. There wasn't any music and his mask lay soaking at her feet. Her stiff frozen hands in his or tangled into his black hair, her cheeks warm and stinging. It was just them, them and the silencing snow. Them and the sky.

But the snow wasn't there.

There wasn't even a them.

Just her and her not-friend and the unpleasant quiet that settles in after a bad kiss. Robin stared at them from his hiding spot, stomach twisted in jealousy and pain, defeat and anger filling his veins.

"You're sixteen."

"I know," she said.

"I'm twenty one."

"I know," she said again.

"It's wrong."

"Yes, it is and I don't want you to confuse this for anything. I don't like you and I don't what to spend any time with you. If I come back, I'll dance with you. But it was just a kiss."

He pulled her toward him and wrapped her in his arms, noticing her breasts against his chest, trying to see if any heartbeat existed. She stood still, unmoving, stoic. And he kissed her again, and she responded, imaging for all she could. Her tongue against his, , he ran a hand along her back, lower, lower, then too far up. Her eyes clenched, trying desperately, _desperately_ to ignore the blonde hair that tickled her cheek, the warmth of the club that was all too quickly leaking back in. One tear, then another, a small stream, then nothing, for she pushed him away, maybe with too much force, and rubbed her eyes, disbelieving. Her dream stood there, watching her with sad eyes.

He reached for her hand as she reached for the crowd, and his fingers caught her wrist. She stopped, her back to him, her head hung.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. Please don't run."

"Are you going to take me home?"

"Do you want to go home," he asked quietly.

She turned to him, trying not to cry, trying not to let him see how thin her skin was at the moment.

"I don't know what I want."

She wished that things were simple… like they used to be; the whole I save your ass, you save mine mentality. But he had changed the game.

Travis yawned, waiting for her.

"I thought you were meeting with friends."

"I was," she lied.

"You don't have any friends, Rae."

"I can have friends other than you guys. What about Speedy, Bee, Herald, Argent, even Jinx and I get along…"

"We're your friends because we went through the issue of control. Because we know your past," he told her, his voice too soft for the harshness of his words. "How are you going to tell a civilian that your father is the physical form of evil? How will they handle the sight of you with Doctor Light? You can't have friends, Raven."

She was silent because it was true and painful.

"This guy likes you because you have a nice rack or he thinks he'll score…"

"Robin… stop."

"… and prove to his friends that he's the man. You aren't anything to him, because…"

"Dude," Travis hissed, "this is cruel. Don't do this to her."

"… he doesn't understand you. And even-"

But he fell quiet as a fist crashed into his face, calling him off guard. But he hardly took a step and just turned towards the man cradling his fist. Travis stood up straight and flexed his hand staring at Robin.

"The second part is true. I don't understand her. If I saw her going all monster-like, or what ever she is, I would probably freak. But she is something to me. She's my friend, even if I'm not hers. And I don't know what you're trying to prove exactly, but you don't need to."

He gave a quick smile to Raven, who just looked at him sickly, as if she was going to faint. With a last glare at Robin, he left burying himself among the throng of dancers.

"I'm sorry."

"Why did you do that? I know all these things," she told him, her voice almost ghostly.

"Because… I don't know."

"Yes you do. But you're trying to keep it from yourself."

"I was upset and I thought that… maybe if you lied to me… or if he wasn't your friend… that I could convince myself that he wasn't a threat."

They both searched for him on the dance floor. But he was normal, and therefore lost among the crowd.

"I'm sorry."

"You told me," she acknowledged.

"Are you angry?"

"No."

"Are you hurt?"

"A little," she drawled. "But I'm fine."

But Raven was not fine. She was sad, because she had to face the fact that she _was_ hurt, because he reminded her of how lonely she really was. Whatever miserable scrap of happiness she once had was gone, and his real form was far more gentle than her pretendings. And it scared her, because she didn't even know if she deserved it.

She leaned against the wall, finding it hard to stand up.

"Are you ok?"

"Just a little overheated."

"Do you want to go outside," he question sadly, realizing the he had hurt her much more than she was letting on.

"I want to go home."

The ride was long and stiff. Cursing himself, Robin drove on, trying to put the fact of how badly he had truly screwed aside, while Raven, clinging to him tightly, was wishing. She didn't believe in fate or God, or anything higher than her. But for a moment she wondered if she gave the power away, and put her hope in the hands of unearthly strangers, her dreams might come true.

But there weren't any stars and the moon was fading behind the clouds.

Robin drove the R-cycle into the garage, smiling at Raven's wind blown hair. She narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose at the sight of herself in the machine's mirror.

"Walk me to my room?" she offered, opening the stairwell door.

"Sure."

It was too quiet for them, too repetitive, just walking up those dusty stairs.

"You can stop, you know, and be honest with me?"

"Meaning…?"

"You don't have to run away."

"I'm not running away," she objected, quickening her steps.

"You are right now. If you have a problem you can just talk to me."

"I don't have a problem."

"I made you upset."

"It's fine!"

She was almost a flight above him, leering down at him. He approached her, one slow step at a time.

"I don't know why you're denying your pain, but you don't need to hide it from me. It's great that you're being conscious of how I feel, but I pretty much feel like shit for how I treated you. You have every right to be angry"

"But I'm not. So if you want a verbal lashing or if you want me to tell you all of the problems I have with you, you're going to have to wait," she snapped. "I get that you need to kill your guilt. But you won't make anything better by getting yelled at."

"How will I make it better then?" he panted, cursing Raven for demanding a room on the highest floor. "I've apologized millions of times, I went looking for you, I pleaded with you, I've done everything! What would be good for _you_, Rae? What would it take to satisfy you?"

"Don't you know that actions speak louder than words? I understand that you're sorry. And I forgave you. But to make it ok, to make it 'better', you need to figure out what you did and _fix_ it."

She pushed the door open and stepped into the hall, her legs tired from all the stairs. Robin followed her, breathing hard, yet trying to control it. They walked slowly because they liked arguing, even though they knew they could never keep it friendly.

"So what did I do," he asked intrepidly, bumping his shoulder with hers.

"I told you, you have to figure it out on your own."

"God, did I really hurt you that much? I mean what I did what a stupid-"

"Mean," she interjected.

"Fine! Stupid _and _mean thing to say, but you're tougher than that! What do you _want_?! Do you want me to give you and blonde-boy a condom and buy you a hotel room?!"

She glared at him, disbelieving, her arms spread.

"I want you to think, Robin!"

"You know, ever since you got 'control', you've been acting ridiculous-"

"_I'm_ acting ridiculous?! What about you? You can't decide whether you want to be my friend or my enemy!"

"I wouldn't have to do that if you weren't acting like a junkie!"

"A junkie?!" She shouted incredulously, the thought of punching him becoming increasingly more attractive "How am I a junkie?! I've been completely straight!"

"You're addicted to partying."

"I _like_ partying. I like dancing. Four nights at a club does not prove a point!"

"It proves my point perfectly. You're putting the city in danger because you want to go clubbing. You're a Titan. Act like one."

"I get there on time! I can teleport! I'm not some irresponsible crackhead bent on destroying the city through dance!"

"But what if-"

"Ugh!" she screamed, "you are so infuriating! You know that I wouldn't do this if I thought I would put anyone in danger! Maybe, instead of blaming me for everything, you grow a pair and actually do something to stop me? Maybe instead of turning this around on me, you figure out what _you_ did?!"

She stood, glowering, and Robin was trapped between his need to win and his desire to make things right. He looked at her, closely, as if studying her, analyzing her body language, what she might say, what he could say to stump her, and realized that he was playing games, and he had forgotten his mission. And had hurt her once more.

"I'm so tired of you and your cockiness! You may be our fearless leader, but th-"

But she was cut off by his lips against hers. Her breath hitched, her eyes widened, only to close at the sight of his blurry outline. Nothing exploded, broke, or cracked, the tower did not tremble. And no matter how much she blinked, no matter how hard she tried to unfocus her mind, he was still there. His hand still cupped her face gently, he still held her close, and he was still kissing her. So she closed her eyes and kissed him back, letting her arms wind around his neck.

"I forgive you."


	7. Red Handed

_Hey, guys, I realize that there have been faulty update where there was nothing new, but that was just me taking down the chapter for edits and then accidentally uploading ch. 4 as ch. 7. Brilliant, no?_

_Ugh, just read -.-_

* * *

"Okay, what the _fuck_."

Robin looked up from his newspaper and coffee to see a very disgruntled kangaroo staring back at him.

"You'll have to be a little more specific."

"You went to the club, you brought her home, you made out… why aren't you guys getting all lovey-dovey? Isn't this the point where you can't keep your freaking hands off each other? Therefore totally grossing us out?"

"Things got… complicated," Robin groaned, folding the paper and chucking it across the room.

The shapeshifter yawned, stretching his arms out wide.

"Meaning what?" BB inquired further.

"It was weird. …First… first, yeah, we were making out, we went inside her room, more hooking up. But then, I don't know, I just sort of lost track of what was happening and her shirt was off and she was crying and… . I guess that you could say that things got a little bit messed up."

"No shit."

"But she was crying out of nowhere and she runs out of her room…, but then she comes back and starts flipping out at me and pushing me out of the room! Just shouting at me! Something about losing everything."

"Weird," concluded the green boy.

Taking a sip of coffee, he stretched his legs out on the couch. He swallowed the bitter drink with nary a wince, actually enjoying the severity and intensity of it. Interested, Beastboy reached for the cup, carefully tipping it, before pursing his lips and squinting his eyes in disgust. Taking three unsuccessfully subtle steps, he spat the liquid out in the sink, happily ridding the taste from he mouth.

"Dude! How can you drink that stuff? It tastes quinine and mud," the changeling exclaimed, violently wiping his mouth with his arm.

"That's what I like about it. It's sobering. Wakes me up," the masked Titan smiled, taking another huge sip, just to make his friend cringe.

"Nasty. … So what are you going to do?"

"In terms of the Raven situation? Talk to her, I suppose. But I'm not sure if she's ready for me to tell her yet. She seems really freaked out. I just want to get back to something where we're both… comfortable, I guess. Whether this thing is romantic or not… I don't care, I just want to be able to spend time together."

Beastboy took a seat next to him.

"I don't know if that's the best thing to do."

"Why?"

"Well," he began, "she might be freaking out because she isn't sure what you guys are either. You fight _a lot_. But you also flirt a lot. And you laugh a lot… you guys seem happy around each other. But you have a ton of ups and downs because you don't know where the line is."

"The line?" asked Robin.

"The line between friends and something else, the line that determines the middle ground… something like that. If you tell her, yeah, she probably will freak, but you'll get it off your chest and she'll know what you want and she'll know that you're serious about her. She might not be ready for it, but dude, it'll make her think. She can't run from the truth."

Robin nodded slowly and ran a hand through his uncommonly unspiked hair, confused. Beastboy had been right about everything so far… but he wasn't sure if he really wanted advice from someone who transforms into small animals so he can sneak into changing rooms. Just telling her… just marching up there… telling her to her face… it scared him. He didn't want her to not be ready. He didn't want her to reject him or run away.

That's why he was trying to force himself to sit down. That's why he was shocked that he didn't want to.

Curiosity was always his biggest vice.

That or pride.

"Gonna go talk to her?" his friend asked, sniffing the coffee.

"Yup."

"You wanna tell her?"

"Nope."

"You going to anyway?"

"Probably."

"Have fun."

"Later."

His heart pounded harder, harder, with each passing step, with each step closer to her door. It had yet to cross his mind that he was actually going to walk up to her, look her in the eyes and just say it. Just say those three little words. 'I love you,' suddenly sounded more like a threat than a declaration of one's heart. He swallowed hard and raised hit fist, tapping his knuckles against it.

_Knock knock knock_

"Rae? Can I come in?"

No voice answered, but he knew she was in there and ignoring him because of the rustling he heard.

"Come on, Rae, I just want to talk to you. Can I please come in."

Silence.

"I know the code to your door. If you don't-"

The door slid open with a dull slam and she leaned against the doorway, staring at him. Robin gulped, noticing her capeless leotard and bare feet.

"If I don't what? Are you sure you would? Invade my privacy and risk getting on my bad side?"

"I…"

"Uh-huh… what did you say you wanted to talk about?" she inquired impatiently.

"Us?"

"What do you mean _us_? There isn't an us."

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering exactly how she was going to get out of this one. She nodded and stepped aside, allowing him in.

"You can talk and paint at the same time right?"

Robin blinked and took the painting roll she handed to him, only then realizing that there were plastic sheets over her furniture and half of a wall was painted indigo.

"Yeah… I guess."

"You guess?"

He shrugged but started working, Raven beside him.

"You were saying?" she drawled.

"I wanted to talk about us."

"I just told you that there isn't one."

"Fine then, I want to talk about you and me. I know that things are different between us. Things have changed since we defeated the brotherhood."

She dipped the roller back into the paint and started again, twitching her nose as a spot of paint landed on it. She wiped it away and continued.

"Rae?"

"_What_?" she snapped.

"You never responded."

"I never had anything to say," she growled, vigorously covering up the stony grey of her walls.

"I do."

Robin kissed her lips gently, adoring her absolutely, the feeling of her satiny mouth treasured and memorized. But he felt hands against his chest, pushing him away, tearing away the arms that snaked around her.

"I thought you had something to say."

"Don't you think that actions speak louder than words?"

"What do you _want_," she demanded, wiping the corner or her mouth with the back of her wrist.

"I think I should be asking _you_ that question, Rae," he sighed. "We flirt, we joke around, I respect your boundaries. I ignore _everything_ for you, so I don't mess up, so you feel comfortable. And you made everything so unclear! I don't get it… at all, you get pissed drunk, demand that I kiss you, get mad at me for not kissing you…… but when I do, you _yell_ at me? What do you want from _me_, Raven?"

She averted her eyes desperately, watching her wall as if she was watching the paint dry. But it was too difficult for her to pretend not to hear, because every word made her heart drop in surprise.

"I don't know what we have…" Robin whispered, taking a seat on her plastic covered bed, remembering the passion of the previous night.

She knew the mystery drove him insane, she knew it made him weak. Yet, she was afraid. Afraid of herself, because things were irregular, even for her life.

"What do we have, Rae?"

"Nothing. I'm not allowed to have the _something_ you're looking for."

"Oh, that is bullshit and you _know it_!" He shouted, vexed. "Nothing blew up last night! And you can't tell me with a straight face that you were controlling yourself all this time, because I _know_ that you felt something last night. Because I lost control too…"

"So what? Do you want me to be some friend with benefits? Like we're normal?" Raven asked calmly, coldly, crossing her arms like coiled snakes. "Like we're just two average kids who date outside their social circle, just like in the Breakfast Club? Is that what you want?"

"You know what I want. And I'm done bending over backwards so you can just yell at me anyway, I'm sick of you thinking yourself better than me. This time, you can take the risk."

". . ."

"Tell me that you don't feel for me and I'll back off…… but I'm tired of being lied to. I'm tired of waiting."

She wouldn't drop her walls, she didn't want to, even though it would destroy him. Even though it would destroy his heart. She knew he would hurt her, after all, relationships included hurt, and he was troubled and dark… too much like her, yet too full of light.

She spoke poison and watched it kill him.

"I don't feel for you. I don't want you. I don't need you. And I won't… ever."

Her room began to flash red and the blaring whine of the alarm filled their ears. Robin stared onward, frozen, as she ran past him, ripping a cloak from a hanger.

He had wanted to be with her, to sleep with her, to be hers. He had wanted to hold her close and whisper thing in her ear, to tell her his theories and brainstorm with her. Even arguing would have been fine with him. But there was no going back and he stared at the broken remains of their friendship and felt alone.

He _was_ alone and he wanted to weep, but his mind was too stunned, his heart was too broken to work, his eyes were too dry. So he walked with robotic despondency to the common room, clicked on the monitor, and watched as Mumbo rampaged through the city.

He wished that it would all burn to the ground.

Brining out his keys, he mounted his motorcycle, ordering his team with the strongest "go!" he could muster, letting the roar of the machine deafen all the thoughts he hated to think.

He was alone and he was wrong. About everything. About how she felt for him, about what she needed, about his limits.

And he was angry. He could feel it pulse though his body, that raw, pure, self-hatred kept him going, driving him to the thing he was meant to do. Just protect the city.

Just do the same thing day after day, just protect the civilians that are too stupid to move to a safer place. Just give up any right to have a normal life.

Lead the titans. Save the city. Don't die. Repeat.

Don't make time for yourself.

Don't fall in love.

Put everyone else first.

If only he had followed the rules, the standards that he and everyone else expected of him.

So, with his bo staff raised, he charged, slamming into the blue magician with all his force, knocking the man off his feet.

"No hello? Why, Robin, it seems as if you have forgotten your manners."

Narrowing his eyes, Robin swung the metal rod at the man, who contorted and avoided, pointing a wand at him.

"No witty comeback?" he asked, grinning like a fool. "Feeling a little under the weather?"

He cackled, waving his wand. Storm clouds grew overhead, screaming with thunder and lighting. With a flash of blinding, burning light, one that came and went too quick, a man fell to the ground and the air filled with the stench of burning flesh. Raven rushed to him, checking for pulse, for any sign of life.

"He didn't survive, you know," smiled Mumbo, twirling his wand in his hand, raising his cuffs over his wrists. "After fifty thousand volts? It seems as if prison has stuffed a new trick up my sleeve."

Black encircled Raven's hands and Mumbo's hat, threatening.

"Ah, ah, ah, Rae-Rae… we wouldn't want to shock Robin, would we?"

She stared at them, the way Robin looked at her, blank, void of any and all feeling. She lowered her hands.

"What do you want, Mumbo?"

"Ah, see," he enthused, turning to the other titans, frozen at the sight of the stalemate, "negotiation is key. Such a smart girl you have on your team. …I want you all to step aside and I want all the bank's money in this here hat. …Or Robin ends up like Bob over there."

They stood, shocked, caught stone-like in their tracks, waiting for the storm to settle.

But Robin would have none of it. He jumped, flipped, and let loose, relishing the cracks that unfurled as his foot collided with Mumbo's face and the blood that leaked onto his shoe. Kick after kick after punch, the man just kept smiling.

"Robin, stop!"

More blood, more kicks.

"Robin, he'll kill you!"

His hands and feet red, his ears blocked, he threw her off as she pulled at him, trying to restrain him, restrain his madness, trying to keep him strong. She saw, she knew, and terror bubbled in her stomach. With every attack, Robin was growing more and more unhinged. She began to pull harder, push against him, trying to save him from the blind rage that would end his life. She screamed her mantra over and over and over, encasing him, trapping him. But just as her powers were conjured by will, they were defeated by it.

"How touching… so desperate for his safety, so afraid of his fury…, is this your first time breaking a heart, Raven? Are you too afraid to tell him the truth?"

'"Shut up before I snap your neck in half."

"Are you truly that selfish, my dear," the thief snickered. "Were you scared to hurt him… or was that vice versa? Look at him, kiddo, he's a wreck. You would drive a person to this point because of fear? You might be a fantastic bad guy under all that blue. Want another shot at being my assistant?"

"I said be quiet," she screeched, the black cage weakening, black sparks coursing around her.

Hey eyes went white, and her hands rose. Things began to shake. Streetlights melted, their bulbs shattering along with nearby windows. Mumbo's eyes widened as gates, stone, metal, glass, wrapped around him, capturing him to near suffocation. _Crack, __**Crack**__, __**CRACK!**_ He cried out as he felt his bones crushing one by one.

His wand fell from his hand as he spoke his last words of coherence.

"Careful, my Raven, it seems as if you're killing your favorite bird."

She blinked, her irises reappearing along with her sight.

But she wished that she saw nothing, for the first thing she saw, horrifyingly true and opaque, was her worst fear come to life.

Blood, everywhere. But the blood wasn't coming from the intended source, the deserving source.

For Robin lay on the ground, broken and cut, his uniform tattered, patches of bruised, maimed skin revealed. Running, her body shrieking with fear, she knelt beside him, checking for a heartbeat. She sighed as she felt a weak flutter of a pulse under her fingertips.

"Robin?" She asked weakly, shaking him.

His mask, hanging limply over his eyes, twitched slowly, making Raven shudder.

"……Raven?…"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Robin. I'm so sorry… I'm sorry…"

He swallowed, trying to quiet his raspy breath. "Thirsty."

"Get some water," she ordered Cyborg.

She glared at them as they watched her, too worried to move. Cyborg stared, his eyes wide, and gulped.

"Go!" She shouted, her eyes crazed and panicked.

Robin shifted under her, hissing lowly at the intense pain that seemed to be everywhere at once. He felt for her hand, his fingers raking at the wet concrete under him. He found it and took it in his. His blood trickled around her arm, and she covered her mouth to subdue the sobs she felt in her chest.

"I never meant to loose control, I never should have been part of this team. I thought that the experiment… I'm so sorry, I'm sorry…"

Cyborg, sparking slightly from the water in his hands, crouched beside Robin and spilled the water into his mouth. But as his task finished, he closed his eyes tight and left, his human eye tearing, too disturbed by the sight of his friend to stay.

She was the only one strong enough.

"I'm sorry, Robin. I'm so sorry." she wept, not knowing what else she could say to him, not knowing what else was right.

She held his hand tight, pressing it to her heart, and sobbed at how weakly it clenched back.

"Don't… cry, Rae…"

"I'm sorr-"

He pushed himself up, screaming internally, and kissed her softly. Raven could taste his bloody lip as he broke away.

"Rae, I l-"

"No," she pleaded, "Robin, please… no. Don't talk. We'll get you to the infirmary… please don't say anything…"

But he took her hand in his and held it over his heart, staring at her through his feeble mask, feeling their hearts break simultaneously. He smiled through the agony and slowly brushed a strand of soaked hair behind her ear, not knowing if it was tears or sweat falling onto his nick.

She trembled and shook, looking at the damage she had done; Mumbo unconscious but breathing, windows broken, lampposts and trees uprooted, the red sidewalks now being cleaned by the rain. Twilight fell when the ambulance finally came to take him to the tower.

She shut her eyes as they pulled him onto the white stretcher, trying to block out his screams of misery and pain, wishing the tears back into her eyes. He began to dye the stretcher crimson, the spot slowly growing.

If only she had been a little braver, a little truer to herself. If only she hadn't allowed him in. Her eyes couldn't quiet, her breath wouldn't calm. He was dying. And it was her fault.

"I love you. Please don't cry."

"Please…please take that back."

But he shook his head and smiled.

"Never."

* * *

_Read and Review, please. And please be so kind as to leave one saying more than, liked it/loved it/good chapter/update soon. I mean, I love hearing these things, and you can write these things, but it would be fantastic, like REALLY fantastic, to get these word along with **what** you liked or what could make it better. _

_And remember, Robin's birthday is coming up soon! _


	8. On Thin Ice

_**Guess who's back? Yep, it took forever but I finally updated. Sorry for the epic!wait, a lot of things hit me at the same time. Firstly, I had to do this gigantic application for a summer program. Then I got bad grades so I had to focus and bring them up. And then I developed a really annoying crush on one of my friends, which is so unrequited it makes me want to explode. What's worse is that he has a girlfriend (in Oregan???), and I'm not the bitchy stealing type. /sigh/**_

_**Eh, enough complaining. **_

_**Story time.**_

-------

She didn't deserve the love that they gave her.

But she accepted it anyway. Because she was lonely and lost, afraid. Because if there were people that still loved her, then maybe the fact that she was a monster would fizzle into transparency.

She watched from her bed as her clock wailed red, making it all too clear that it was midnight and his third day of sleep. His third day of not knowing how sorry she was, how much she missed him. He was dying. And it was killing her, slowly, like old honey falling from a ladle.

Her body had begun to suffer from the sleepless nights. Her once beautiful shining eyes were sullen and baggy, she had lost her glow. Things began to frighten her, minimal _trivial_ things like a sudden slam of doors, an unexpected voice. And insignificant tasks suddenly proved a challenge.

When she wasn't training, she was meditating. If she wasn't meditating, she was on the roof damning herself for her selfishness and all the danger she inflicted upon her friends.

It was safe to say that she was a little bit unhinged.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But all she could see was his face, bloody and scratched, almost dead.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Rae," called a deep brotherly voice, "can I come in?"

She flicked her hand and the door hissed open, casting light and shadow around the room.

A cold metallic hand touched her shoulder, making her shiver. Cyborg quickly switched his hand, resting his human one upon her ashen skin, stroking it lovingly, as if cradling a child.

"How you holding up, Dark Girl?"

Raven pulled the covers to her skin. The shivers, the cold, wouldn't leave her body or mind, reminding her achingly of his jacket that she refused to wear. She brushed her forehead with the back of her fingers, letting the cold sweats collect in the gaps. The older boy pressed his cool metal palm to her hairline, soothing her pulsing memories.

"…I can't sleep," she whispered hoarsely.

"Me neither."

"You have an excuse. You're up all night. You're up all night keeping an eye on him."

". . ." Cyborg sighed quietly, "I am. But it makes me feel better, like I can control things, like I can keep a solid variable on his chance of survival."

"I should be healing him."

"No. You shouldn't. With your emotions in this state……- Rae, you know that I trust you. You're just too unstable right now."

She gulped down the new set of tears that threatened to spill.

"I was so sure that I had my powers under control. I checked everything. I got as happy as possible, I got _drunk_. I didn't meditate _once_. Why couldn't it have killed _me_?"

"He isn't dead, Rae. He's getting more stable everyday. It isn't your fault."

"How can you say that to me when you saw what happened. I lost control. I hurt him. It's my fault entirely, you know this and you're trying to make me feel better."

He so wanted her to smile, for the pressure pouring down on her to lighten. But she was right, and the blank reality in her stare forced the truth into his thoughts. It was her fault; every shallow breath Robin took, every one of those cuts, each one of those nurses, doctors, was there because of her mistake. And he wished that it was Mumbo's fault, so he didn't feel the need to cradle the potential murderer of his friend.

He nodded and stared ahead, staring out the large windows.

"Let go outside. I haven't had fresh air in four days."

She agreed and pulled her blanket over her shoulders, following him out onto the balcony, shivering almost instantly. It chilled her to her core, the breeze was almost painful… but it felt right. It felt like she was finally having someone give her what she deserved. Like some one was being real and blunt with her and giving her the treatment that was right.

Another gust barreled through the blanket, as if reprimanding her for her self-pity.

"What's the temp?"

Cyborg pressed a button on his knuckle and held it to the wind.

"Thirty-three… twenty-five when you count wind-chill."

"No kidding," she agreed, squinting as her hair tickled her eyelashes. "Remember when we went to Paris?"

"You mean on that bogus mission?"

"Yeah, by the time the T-plane actually landed, Bomb-Voyage had already been defeated. We spent a whole week there, doing nothing. It was just one week and I already felt more at home there then I do in Jump."

"I had to practically drag you into the plane," he smiled.

"God, I hate this city," Raven hissed darkly. "I'm so tired of fighting. …I was thinking that once this all blows over, once he can _walk_ again, that maybe Robin and I could go back up there, just the two of us. We could try to figure things out, find out what exactly is going on between us."

""You sure do have a lot of ground to cover. But if you've got to find out what feel about someone, no better place than Paris."

She scratched her head, agitated.

"I just wish that I never did this stupid test. If had been able to say _no _to him… I knew that it would go bad eventually. Just not this bad."

She sighed quietly.

"Tell me a secret," Cyborg said plainly, leaning against the metal gate. "Robin gets all the good secrets. If you tell me one, I'll tell you one."

Raven raised an eyebrow at him, but nodded, thinking. She has some harmless secrets, but those would surely bore him. All the others were too severe, and it scared her to say them out loud. But she needed a distraction.

"You go first," she smirked.

"That wasn't part of out deal, sneaky."

"Fine," she huffed. "I'm not a virgin."

Cyborg blinked.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"B-but _how_?! _Who_?!"

"How do you think?" she quipped. "Besides, you can't be Chase's girlfriend and not do that sort of thing. He needs that to keep him loyal. It wasn't as if I liked it, so I guess I've still managed to keep my metaphorical virginity, but the physical, not so much. Besides, I'm sure everyone in the Titans except for Star has done it."

He shook his head.

"Don't be so sure, Dark girl."

"What, you've never-"

"Of course I have. But everyone else, I don't think so," he explained. "We don't have that much free time, and most of us, except for Speedy, want a relationship to occur before something like that happens. You, me, Speedy, and perhaps Aqualad are the only ones that have ventured past kissing and groping."

"I was sure Robin-"

"The boy doesn't go outside, I don't think he has time to go spelunking. Besides, he and Star only were steady for a month or so. I think he might have been saving himself for-"

"Don't say it," she barked. "I don't want to hear it."

"But it's true. He's a romantic."

Raven pushed herself off the balcony and back into her room, falling onto her bed, trying to block out what her friend was saying. She was afraid and hurt, and she didn't want to be reminded of what he felt for her, the weapon she used to kill him. She still wasn't ready to let go.

But she kept remembering the feeling of his lips on hers, locked in raw passion. She never knew something could feel so perfect but so sinful at the same time.

Raven remembered everything.

It happened where she was now, a desperate scrambling of unfulfilled hunger and a need to be wanted, to be desired. Never separating, never breaking that thirsty kiss, he tore off his jacket, only to be followed by hers, then her shirt. She grabbed the fabric of his shirt and raised it over his head, over his arms, and it soon joined the others in the corner of her room. It felt like electricity, having his skin, his toned, devoted arms, holding her, his lips greedy. He drew a trail, kissing from her mouth to her jaw, until he reached her neck, which sent a jolt down her spine. She groaned softly into his ear. Her back arched, reverting to the animalistic tendencies that she had locked away, dragged to the surface by his starving lips, which nipped at her collarbone tenderly. Robin was so careful, loving, gentle, that it felt as if he treasured her.

But she didn't deserve it. All the things she had done, the people she had hurt... She was a danger to all of those she cared for, all the ones she held dear. Especially him: her best friend, the one that confused her, made her feel. So, with gushing tears falling from her eyes, and with a pain that felt as if her heart was being torn, she pushed him away, screaming, rambling. She threw his clothes at him, forced him out. …Shut him out.

"Rae?"

She turned towards her friend.

"What?"

"You never listen, do you? I was saying that you should come up for air so I could tell you my secret. It's a good one. One only you will know."

Raven sat up, glad for the distraction.

"Tell me," she demanded.

"When I was seven I wanted to be a fashion designer."

"Get out," she whispered, amazed.

He nodded.

"That dream kind of died once I had my accident. But hey, I'm happy with where I am now."

"Never too late."

"Optimism? From _Raven_? And I though Robin was the sick one."

Silence fell in her room, the only sound coming from the waves and the wind. She stared at her wall, eyes blank, bathing in the moonlight and shaking slightly from the cold.

"You need to see him," he told her, looking her in the eyes.

She shook her head and lay back down, breathing deeply. Her sheets still smelled like him. So she buried herself under her covers, pretending that he was there next to her, safe, healthy, and peaceful. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to see what she had done.

"He's getting better, you know. Still asleep, but he's responding well to the medication. He's healing fast."

She remained quiet and ignored him.

"Rae, come on. I know you feel bad, but you need to see him. He needs you."

She turned away from him, her eyes closed, her hair falling out of place.

"Raven!" He chastised, ripping the covers out of her hands. "You're acting like a child. He loves you. He loves you more than anything! He has saved you thousands of times, protected you, comforted you… This is selfish. I want to see you in the infirmary tomorrow. That's an order."

"And if I refuse?" She growled.

"Robin didn't resort to punishment and nor will I. But you should think about who you're really hurting here."

Raven waved her hand and the door opened, once again flooding the room with light. She stared at him meanly, her eyes flashing intimidatingly, her brow furrowed, and her posture sharp, confrontational. Cyborg watched her. He saw the things she didn't notice: the tiny twitches of a frown, her caving shoulders, her curling toes, all signs of suppressed guilt and helplessness.

But he let her hold onto the one thing she had left: her pride.

"You're free to go," she spat, signaling towards the door.

He sighed but turned to the door, respecting her privacy.

"Remember, Rae," Cyborg said as he walked out the door, "we love you. So do us a favor and take care of yourself. He'll be ok. Shower, eat. You need your strength."

The door whispered closed and left her in the dark, alone, cold.

She tossed and turned, pulling the covers this way and that, but she couldn't calm down. His scent was teasing her. Whenever she tried to focus on in, to fill the void, it escaped. It was too fleeting and temporary. She breathed deep into her pillowcase. Again, gone.

So she stood and she paced, hoping that her thoughts would restart and she could rid herself of the endless red that plagued her mind's eye. Pace, turn, pace, turn. Stop. She stared at the new indigo of her walls. He kissed her here too. The day after she first felt his lips, the day she broke his heart and his bones. She couldn't get his face out of her head, that shocked, suicidal stare that bore into her as she told him that she would never need him.

She smashed her fist against the wall. _Slam_,_** slam**_, _**SLAM**_. She screamed as she punched, her palms aching, her knuckles swelling. Sobbing. Sobbing. Sobbing.

_"I love you. Please don't cry."_

"I'm sorry, Robin," she wept, sinking to the floor, hiding behind her knees. "I'm so sorry." She shook with her tears and let them fall freely, let them soak her shirt and make her knees slippery and wet. She hiccupped, hyperventilating, her cries violent and harsh.

She felt arms wrap around her, strong but adoring, the smell of his skin surrounding her. She turned around, wide-eyed, hoping.

But no one was there, only her, hugging her knees.

She wiped the angry tears from her eyes, stood, and walked out of her room talking only a pillow with her. The hallways were long and unending, and she felt like she was being swallowed. But she continued walking until she reached the elevator. She pushed the button, waited and stepped inside, cringing at the blinding lights. But it was fast and she was only two floors away. Immediately after the door opened she ran to the end of the hall, stopping only when she reached his room.

She punched in his code (8254) and stepped into his room. Everything in the room simply exuded Robin, from the plainness of his bedspread right down to color of his walls. It was neat and tidy now that Slade was dead. His bed was clumsily made and his papers were organized, as was his corkboard and his files. His surveillance computer was shut off and a tower of books was erected next to his bed. She took a seat on the mattress and went through the titles. Her hand softly skimmed over the covers.

Raven was sure that her fellow bird liked mystery, it just seemed second nature to him. But they were all classics, novels that she herself had fallen in love with and been whisked away by. _Moby Dick, The Great Gatsby, To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men_, authors like Thoreau and Fitzgerald and Twain. She smiled to herself and put down the books.

Even incapacitated as he was, he still found ways to surprise her.

It was alarming. She hated it. She wasn't supposed to care this much. She wasn't supposed to feel such extremes. She wasn't supposed to love.

So Raven brought her legs up onto the bed, lay her head down on her pillow, and turned off the overhead lights with two claps. But she was moving soon again as she reached blindly for one of _his_ pillows placing it over hers for added support.

She breathed deep and let his scent take over her senses.

Sleep wasn't far off.

_**Yes, I know. A bit mature, no? Hey, I think that Robin and Raven are both far too mature for their ages, so they can have a mature relationship. Read and Review please!**_


	9. Solace from Closure

Robin had no curtains. In the morning the sun would pour in like an avalanche down a mountain, so he was always awake at the crack of dawn. That's how Raven knew that it was evening when she awoke. The room was drenched in cool blue, the color of a fading day. At first she thought that she had woken up after four hours of sleep. But she felt rested and his clock told her that it was 6p.m..

It didn't surprise her. She hadn't had more than three hour's sleep in the past four days. She also hadn't showered… or brushed her teeth… or combed her hair… or done anything somewhat related to cleanliness. So she sat on the edge of his bathtub, turned the knobs of hot and cold water until it reached the hottest temperature that wouldn't burn her skin, and grabbed a comb. The knots snagged and pulled violently, making her eyes squint and her teeth clench in the stinging pain. But eventually, the knots gave way and let the comb pass through. She placed the comb back in the cabinet and slid into the bath, snakelike, her body following her feet in a fatigued wave of motion.

Raven took a breath as deep as she could muster and her head fell underwater, the strands of violet hair floating to and fro around her face. She felt all the pressure of the water on top of her, closing her in.

Suffocating.

With a splash she resurfaced, pushing her hair out of her face, the reminiscent ghost of his fingers brushing against her cheek.

A quick shampoo and condition and she was out, her guilt crashing and raw.

It was about time she stopped running from the truth. She was tired and weary, at the end of her rope, like a cancer victim losing the battle. This she couldn't deny: she was a mess. But she was a Titan, a fighter, a protector.

So she had to grit her teeth and deal with it.

Raven carelessly pulled a grey shirt and some sleepshorts out of his dresser and dressed, her mind too far off to realize the fact that she was wearing his clothes. Taking a deep, preparing breath, she realized she smelled like him, both like soap and skin.

She left, feet bare.

She never truly noticed how big the tower was, how it seemed to sprawl on forever. It was so big when everyone was healthy.

She felt lost among the hallways.

"Fu- Raven! Rae!"

Raven turned slowly to the all-too-familiar voice, fist clenched, shoulders tight and guarding.

"Hey, Chase. What's up?"

Chasen jogged up to her, his chain bracelet jingling with each step.

"Star was trying to find you, but… you sort of disappeared for the night. Where did you go? We looked all over for you."

She bit her lips to control her flushing face.

"Just a walk around the tower. I couldn't sleep. We much have missed each other."

"I guess that would make sense," he smiled. "It's a pretty big house."

"Yeah," she nodded stoically, not knowing how to revive the staling conversation.

Chasen shifted, uncomfortable, scratching an arm or tapping his foot. "Do you think _I_ could maybe talk to you before hand? Just to settle a few things? I mean, last time, you sort of… rang my neck-"

"Wrung. Wrung your neck."

"Right. So there's obviously a lot of tension that's occurred between us over these few weeks. So I just wanted to make sure things are chill between us."

Raven sighed lowly, no energy left in her soul. "I don't even know, Chase. I have to be honest with you; I just don't trust you. You aren't a committed person by nature. You're an ass, you're self-obsessed. The exact type of person Star can't handle is who you are. And trying to bring up our old ties is cruel to her and me."

He shook his head, eyes closed in confusion.

"See, you just changed again."

"Meaning?"

"Hardly a week ago, you were all peaceful, almost normal. Like, your hands moved when you talked, your voice got angry or you frowned or your eyebrows twitched. …But you're a rock again. What happened to that Raven? The one that didn't look like she hated me."

"Reality caught up w-"

"I'm serious."

"So am I," she barked.

"Fine! Look. ……Look. I'm sorry about what I said. About him. I didn't like him because I was jealous. He… Robin… just got you. Robin wasn't scared of you. And you weren't scared of him and… smiled with him and touched him! I never got that from you. I don't want you back. There's too mixed up shit in you life for me. But I am. Sorry, that is…"

Raven stared as if she was looking through him, searching for the tricks he played. But she supposed it was even too cruel for Chasen to play games at a time like this.

"Is he ok," he asked carefully.

"I don't know."

He drew back from the curtness of her words, the hostility and hurt, felt the biting pain of her constantly confused and mangled heart, forever doomed to a life unfortunate and sorrowful.

"What did Star want to talk to me about?"

"Nothing. Nevermind."

"No," she said, her voice now softer, grabbing his elbow in the palm of her hand. "I'm sorry. What was it?"

He grinned and scratched his neck guiltily.

"Honestly… nothing. I needed an excuse to talk to you without you running away," Chasen admitted sheepishly. "To apologize, I suppose, for being such a bitchy pest. I really do want to be friends… like, I know things were rough when we we're together, but I like you, yeah? And I guess Robin seems cool."

She gave a short half-smile. "He's a great leader."

Chase stepped back and stared at her, rubbing his eyes of the drowsiness of a lazy day, trying to understand the situation that lay before him. The undeniable connection between the two that she herself was denying was so vivid and bright, almost alive itself, almost tangible.

"You know it's more than that. _I_ know that it's more than that. And I know that no one else will tell you this because you're fragile right now. But I will. Robin's… he's hurt, he's in a really bad state, and I'm not saying he won't survive, because he _is_ getting better… but I just… he's not good. And if something should happen and you won't admit what you already feel, there's going to be a shitload of burdens on your shoulders. I may not know how he got hurt, but I know you're avoi-"

"It was my fault."

"Wh-… Rae, I didn't say that," he said quietly staring her eyes.

"No, I mean it really was my fault. I lost control. I got emotional when I hadn't meditated for days. I put Robin in a coma. If he dies, it's his blood on my hands. "

She looked towards the ground silently, her misery escaping her body and filling the room, quickly becoming present in the air.

"I have to go," she sighed. "It's about time I face this."

"Sh-should I… would you like me to come?"

"No," she shook her head, "Star must be wondering where you are. I'll be fine."

"Sure?"

"I'm sure."

He smiled softly at her and awkwardly patted her arm, not sure how to make contact with out seeming caddish. Nonetheless, he left whistling softly, retreating to Starfire's room where safety was sure.

Raven remembered what life was like with him, back when she was fifteen and impressionable, when she was fresh and ready for adventures. Back when she liked Jump City. He seemed to like her more than anyone ever had before, so she was much more wiling to put up with the infidelity. But even being tolerant as she was, loving him as she did, she was always dissatisfied, unhappy. So she left him to woo other women and went on her way as if she never knew him at all.

But she couldn't do that with Robin. She was in too deep and drowning in strangling guilt. She had put down her guard and her roots for him to see and with those belongings left in his hands she was afraid to leave.

So she hugged her torso as she walk to the infirmary and hoped for the best.

Ready for the shock, Raven pulled open the door, bracing herself for the blow. And it was right for her to do so.

Covered from head to toe in bruises, cuts, and scrapes, Robin looked like a victim of torture and disease, like every breath he took would be his last.

The sorceress turned away, her stomach sick, and pressed the intercom button, asking about his vitals and how long it would be before he was awake.

"He had a lot of internal bleeding and a few broken bones, but we already took care of that with the operations," the static voice told her, pouring from the machine. "He still has a concussion, but it's mild by way of concussions go. Now, mainly just external injuries and with medication and antibiotics he should be fine. So I would say three maybe two days until he's awake."

Raven, shocked, let go of the button.

"But Chasen told me…" But then she remembered that he had tricked her into talking to him, so she wouldn't have been surprised if that was a trick as well.

He still cared.

Speaking once more to the supervising nurse, she asked, "So he'll live. He's stable. Correct?"

"He's stable, vitals are good. Responding well to the medication as well. He's really in fantastic shape and very healthy, so I'm not surprised if he wakes up before I predicted. I've had cases much worse than his on civilians."

"……You are hiding something from me. Don't you know I'm an empath? Or did they _tell _you to lie to me?"

The one-way-mirror shook and collapsed, quietly falling into a cascade of silver shards. The nurse, middle aged and plain, flinched, shut-eyed and terrified.

"I h-haven't lied."

"But you _are_ hiding something from me."

"The girl told me not to say."

"You _will_ tell me!" Raven seethed, her anger so pure and voluptuous, the woman's hair stood on end.

The nurse spoke quickly, "The clown, Mumbo, took damage, couldn't survive, something went wrong…with… with his organs. …One lung was punctured… there was brain damage and …heart failure. His immune system was inactive."

Raven swallowed a breath she had held for what seemed like centuries and let a few tears of relief slip to her chin. If that had been Robin… If that had been Robin she couldn't live, and she knew she should have felt at least remorse, for taking a life due to her own abandon. Yet her relief was so strong, her hatred for the jester so deep, that she could feel no sympathy or guilt. Mumbo had pushed her to the edge, picked and dissected her control, her self-restraint. His own hubris brought it upon himself.

He played with fire and suffered.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I would be very thankful if I could have some privacy, however."

Grateful for her chance for freedom, the nurse fled.

Raven closed her eyes and muttered a few words and the broken glass lifted from the floor, pieced itself together, and slid back into place, looking as If it had never before been touched.

"I guess that I need to start meditating again, now that your brain-dead test is over. How could you put yourself at so much risk?" She took a seat next to his cot, watching the heart monitor steadily spike and fall. "I don't care if you're okay now. I don't care if it's only external now, you could have been the one with their innards torn to shreds! I know that it's your style to fight with all you have, to protect with your life, it's your job to do so, your passion. But to be so stupid as to run into a situation where it's more likely that you'll get killed is moronic and childish."

Staring, she noticed how still Robin was, and began to realize how pointless it was to talk to him.

"Pathetic. I'm talking to a breathing machine."

Still, the words bottled up were pushing at her throat.

"So be it. I don't care. It's not like I can ever get a good conversation out of anyone else in this labyrinth. I know that they aren't stupid, even though the boys act like it and Starfire has as much knowledge of our customs as a snail. They just can't seem to have a conversation that doesn't involve something out of their wake. It has become increasingly difficult to maintain captivating dialogues about either mustard or my ex-boyfriend. …They're doing well, Chasen and Star. He's been loyal to her since _she's_ completely benign. Hasn't pressured her for anything, is really nice to her… he taught her how to not choke someone when kissing them… so that's a good deed for humanity. ……"

"…… Come on Robin, just wake up. I know I pushed you to it, by saying what I said to you. That I wouldn't need you, or that I didn't care or want you. I was _scared_, Robin. I was _scared_. I admit it, I was _scared_. You're the fucking best anyone has ever been to me," she whispered sadly, her fingers grazing his stitch marked cheek. "I didn't want another damn tragedy. I didn't want more hurt. I didn't want to be hurt by you, even though you have cared for me more than anyone else in my life. But I ended up hurting you. I do need you. I will always need you, want you, and feel for you. And I'm sorry for causing you such grief."

The breathing machine echoed about the room statically, reminding her of her sins. She gulped and coughed softly, and wiped her face clean of the sadness. She put on a brave face and scanned for damage, only to smirk at that lack of it.

So things were gradually returning to normal.

She sat by him for a few more hours, just sitting, talking to him. It was mainly to calm her nerves and soothe her guilt; seeing his bruised, stitched face and cut skin was unnerving. But it was good to see him, to know that he was breathing and that recovery wasn't far off.

The other Titans had come in to check on him as well, but left soon seeing Raven there, eyes red and puffy.

They didn't know that they were tears of comfort and self-forgiveness.

And with an inkling of curiosity, she closed her eyes gently and leaned over to kiss him, sweetly brushing her lips against his, pleading silently for the return. But he was asleep.

"I should have known that heroines can't break curses," she sighed. "That's fine. Fairytales are foolish anyhow."

Lips pressed together, heart light with the release of her burdens, Raven left the room to return to his, anxious for his awakening and the sound of his voice.

_Maybe I __**am**__ ready for this_, she thought with a smile.


	10. History of a Sin

_**Yes, I KNOW you silly nitwits! Calm down, you lot! Isn't like I'm dead! And I'm posting now, so you may smile and read this epically long chapter. No, I don't have an excuse other than laziness, but I swear to finish this story by the end of November. Maybe. But yeah, I just wanted to thank all of you guys for the views, faves, alerts, and reviews. It really means a lot to me and all of this great feedback really inspires me. So grateful.**_

_**I've admittedly taken some creative liscence with their ages, since it is never directly stated in the show. I always imagined Raven's birthday in the show to be her sixteenth, and Robin to be older than her by eight months or so. So, ages; Raven's sixteen, Robin almost seventeen, Starfire is sixteen, Beast Boy is fifteen, and Cyborg is eighteen. I understand if it doesn't really work, it's just how I picture it, even if I'm wrong.**_

_**Also, this chapter might seem to suggest that BB has some feelings for Rae, but I assure you, it is STRICTLY RxR. I think BB does love her intensely, but not as a romantic interest. As family. **_

_**Disclaimer: Consider it disclaimed.**_

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She didn't need to be in their vicinity to feel the waves of their emotions, the steady push and pull of happiness and comfort. She felt it radiating through her floor, seeping in like steam, smelling of clove, tasting of honey. When her feet hit the floor it would warm her soles, when she closed her eyes she could see them kiss. Raven felt Starfire's hair brush against her eyelashes, and in return Chasen's hands would expertly caress her waist.

December ninth.

Raven wished she could sleep forever. Run forever. Somehow escape from the perpetual stream of positive emotion she could not bring herself to feel in actuality.

She turned sideways, her violet hair splayed across Robin's pillows, and glanced at the clock; ten thirty two. In one hour, twenty-eight minutes, and fourteen seconds, Robin's birthday will have come to a close, and any hope of delivering his present would be lost. Her hands gripped the blanket hard and she stared at the ceiling, wondering exactly how long she was going to let herself wait. When the nurse said he would be up in a few days, she truly expected that to happen like clockwork, completely forgetting how medicine and bodies work. Everything is unpredictable.

Nothing can be promised. Nothing is ever truly constant, other than the fact that life is never linear.

She stretched lazily and took her communicator in her closed palm, debating on weather she had the energy to flip it open, ask a doctor, a Titan, for any update on his status.

'_He's fine_," she thought, trying her hardest to convince herself of her own convictions.

_Tap-Ta-Tap_ sounded the door, and Raven froze, every muscle in her body hitching, her stomach sprouting worms and her heart jolting with the sound. He was here. She would see him, see him healthy and awake and battle-scarred.

But the knock sounded again, leading Raven to realize he wouldn't knock on his own door. She picked herself up and away from the bed and opened the door, welcomed by the sight of a frantic Beast Boy, who, upon seeing her, pulled her roughly into his arms. His green eyes pressed into the empath's shoulder and he let out a quivering breath, heavy with both his relief and worry.

"Where've you been? We haven't seen you in days! I thought— I mean, I know it's stupid— but I-I thought that you might have hurt yourself or... I know thats not you, you never would. But with Robin not being awake... Why haven't you come to talk to us?"

Detangling herself from her comrade's awkward lanky hug, Raven sighed.

"I needed some alone time."

"...But why aren't you in your room?"

"Too quiet," she shrugged awkwardly, not knowing if telling Beast Boy that she missed the way Robin smelled was the best idea. Minimalism seemed key.

"But his room is soundproofed... and you're wearing his shirt."

She groaned softly and leaned her head against the wall, her toes curling against the cool tile of the floor outside. Her head pulsed agonizingly, everything ached; Raven wondered if she was falling apart at the seams. Given all she was feeling, experiencing, even back on meditation and all, she wouldn't have been surprised. An emotion, any, though anger and irritation occasionally slipped under the radar, _used_ to set things ablaze and lead to destruction.

But she was pining for someone, gleeful and miserable at the same time. Overcome with sadness and yet still hopeful. She would have thought the building to be in shambles, yet it was standing strong and no more than a lightbulb had suffered her wrath.

"You ok?" Beast Boy asked, sure he was going to receive an answer. But as she just sighed again, he took hold of her elbow and began to walk, earning an indignant grunt from the sorceress. "Come on. You need some food."

And to both of their surprise, Raven followed along passively, more like a rag doll than anything. She simply didn't have the energy to argue anymore. Hadn't slept enough for that. Life was to fast for her to really keep up with, so for the time being, and _just_ for the time being, she decided that it was best for her to simply float along the surface and follow wherever the currents lead. And apparently the currents were pushing her towards the kitchen.

Her stomach seemed to approve of this holy guidance.

"What do you want?"

"Tea," she said, utterly detached.

Beast Boy frowned and sat heavily in the adjacent chair.

"You need to put something in your system," he insisted.

"I don't want anything else. Just some tea. Mint."

Her suggestion was met with a frustrated, determined leer and the sound of the chair scraping the floor as he stood up.

"No. Just food. You're skinny. No complement intended."

Stomping towards the refrigerator, he grumpily pulled open the door, and thus a large cacophony of _bangs_ and _clanks_ and _clinks_ were heard from the stove. Raven didn't care to turn. A little bit of noise was refreshing.

She looked fleetingly at the old analog clock above the coffee cabinet; Ten fifty-six. One hour. Just one. No sign of him.

"What did you get Robin for his birthday?" Beast Boy called from her blind spot. "I got 'im a game."

"You've got him in the bag. Sure surprised me."

"You may be a scrawny, pathetic version of Raven, but you've still got it. That quickness. With words."

Raven swallowed slowly, a jab of hurt digging through her neck. "...Why so angry, Goodall?"

"Do you really not know? Seriously, Rae?"

She shrugged blandly, her face ever stoic. The sound of an exasperated sough rang in her ears like a gong. Her friend, the jovial, loud, uncensored child, was acting as he never had before. Acting straightforward, no jokes to chase down any bitterness of truths he didn't care to notice.

"Look at you. Like, really look at yourself; skinny as fuck, dirty hair and all. You smell like shit. You don't resist anything, not mean to anyone, no self-dependence. You aren't Raven. Raven doesn't sit around, waiting for her problems to solve themselves! Even if she can't do anything, even _if_ she can't solve the problem, she would confront it." Something metallic banged on the stove, startling her. "And jumpy as hell! I swear Rae. This isn't who you are."

"What if I've changed?"

"Then change back. I know you care about him. But you're destroying yourself from the inside."

"I'm fine," she curtly barked.

"You want to be. I want you to be, and so does everyone else... but you know the truth." Beast Boy walked in front of her and scraped the contents of the pan onto her plate. "Maybe you should take a break from emotions for a tiny bit. I dunno, maybe some more mediation. You're not used to it yet, right? Ease into it. You'll adjust. Just slow it down a bit, okay?"

Raven nodded hesitantly before a blink of astonishment flashed across her face as she took in her food.

"Eggs?"

"What about them?" He asked absently, rummaging through the couch cushions in search of the remote.

"You made me _eggs_. You're a vegan. You... _condemn _eggs."

"I'm more worried about your protein deficiency than I am about my convictions or an unfertilized egg. You're family. Clucky isn't. Right?"

The changeling grinned and placed a fork in front of her.

"Eat."

Raven cautiously took the fork in her hand and pushed it under a morsel of egg. It felt strange and slightly runny in her mouth, but it tasted fine and she sent her green comrade an appreciative stare. He had probably never made eggs in his life, she realized after her fourth bite. Feeling the food drop into her stomach, warm and sustaining, was to her a bit of life restored, a bit of herself given back.

"Can I have—"

"Some tea?" Beast Boy asked, setting in front of her a hot mug wafting the tingle of mint and earth from it's brim. He took his seat across from her and leaned his chin on the table. "You've earned it."

She took the cup in her hands, gently waved her hand through the steam, and looked away from her food into the emerald eyes of the shapeshifter. Though the time in which this change had occurred was totally unbeknownst to Raven, she quite abruptly noticed that his eyebrows and bone structure had morphed into a far more angular set than the one of just a few days prior. And he was taller. Yes, by a few inches, the analyzed sharply.

"When was the last time you called me 'Dude'?

He shrugged and reached for her tea, hoping to sample a sip. Raven, her eyes on the clock, pulled her cup closer, quite accustomed to Beast Boy trying to be stealthy. He straightened.

"Dunno. Maybe I grew up a bit."

"When did that happen?"

"... You know as well as I do."

She nodded her head, took another sip, and let in a deep breath.

"It doesn't feel like December, does it?"

She smirked into her mug.

"I suppose not," he sighed. "It's cold as hell though."

"So not that cold then."

A tiny grin wormed its way onto her face as Beast Boy realized she made a joke that wasn't at his expense.

"I suppose not," he said again.

"I meant how quickly it passed. November. It doesn't feel like we even had one. Maybe it's because you nitwits didn't bother me on Thanksgiving."

"Or you were too trashed to notice."

"Pot calls the kettle what? You weren't quite the poster child for sobriety."

"You were dancing in your underwear!"

"And _you_ humped Cyborg's leg," she countered hotly, a challenging look searing from her eyes.

Both were silent and tried to recall their alleged humiliation but each drew blanks. They then both smiled vaguely, and the silence sat back in once they realized that they had managed to begin to live with their leader. To laugh.

Raven sipped her tea quietly. It was too watery and slightly too hot. It burned her tongue when she brought the rim to her lips.

'Eleven fifteen,' she thought, the ticking hand's steady rotation making her eyes stick to it like glue.

"Rae?"

She looked at him blankly, an eye brow raised. He began, speaking to her in the only way he knew she would respond to. Bluntness.

"Do you love Robin? Like, in love?"

He waited until she answered, which felt like an eternity. There was nothing to do other than watch her face, devoid of emotion, and hope for the answer he wanted.

"I'm not sure. I... care about him," Raven said carefully, obviously not used to saying what she felt in words, obviously bewildered at the feeling of those particular words on her tongue, "But what exactly I feel for him I have no idea. I'll figure that out when I talk to him. I don't know now. I don't have an answer."

Beast Boy nodded, understanding yet disappointed. He chuckled lowly to himself and caught her attention.

"What?" She asked flatly.

"Do you remember when you left on Thanksgiving? Robin was so angry. It was almost a little bit funny, but he was so upset and agitated, ready to explode, you know? It was impossible to laugh at him when he looked like that. I guess through all of that fury he was really hurt that you left him. And I was an ass and demanded that he tell us that he loved you. I shouted at him, actually. Because were scared he would hurt you if he couldn't say it and we all knew it was true. Even me. _Me_. He was about to say it when you walked in."

"Are you going to make me say that to you about him?"

"No," he shrugged, pushing her fork to her, encouraging her to continue eating.

"That's a pretty big double standard."

"No it's not. Obviously, you don't know. So why would you of all people say something you might not mean? Be forced to say it? No. Robin knew he loved you and knew he wanted a relationship with you. We didn't want you to get hurt."

Eleven Twenty-two.

Raven gripped the warm cup in her hands and let the steam rise, moistening her face. Everyone was talking about him as if he was already dead. Like they were getting over him, moving on. That, she couldn't understand. They had been living together for practically four years, since she had just turned thirteen. How could they be going forward so easily? Not a wreck like her. Not sleeping in his bed to catch whatever scent or sight she could to keep his memory close. Not wearing his clothes or reading his books or dreaming of him love or his death night after guilt-filled night. It almost made her angry, almost hurt her, to see them without proper grief.

"Stop talking about him in past tense. If your eyes haven't failed you the way your brain has, you may notice he's still breathing," she berated coldly.

"Only meant it by way of it happening during Thanksgiving. Honest. Okay?"

"You don't get it do you?" spat Raven, clutching the fork tight in her hand. "This is _my fault._ I killed another human being, I almost killed Robin. Do you think I'm supposed to feel okay about this like the rest of you? That I can forgive myself for doing that to someone? I can't, Gar."

Beast Boy narrowed his eyes in alarm at the use of his name. Raven hardly addressed him as Beast Boy, opting instead for nimrod or moron.

"Maybe you wanted to kill him."

"What?" Her voice was sharp and guarded.

"He would have killed Robin. You might not have known it, but your powers most likely thought he was asking to be murdered for threatening something special to you."

"That's ridiculous. I got angry and my powers got out of hand. Hurt him. And Robin."

"You got angry _because_ he was taunting you while planning to kill Rob. Overshot your power and didn't hit a bulls-eye is all I see." He shrugged and took a sip of her tea. "You can't be held totally responsible. Just for missing. I mean- Rae? Oh, Rae..."

Raven held her knees tight to her chest, her nails digging in so hard the skin began to tear under them. Back lifting and falling sporadically with tremulous breaths and gasps, teardrops fell from her eyes like a hazardous dam, the pressure held up cracking the walls at the center.

Beast Boy had never seen her cry. Watching it, seeing her unguarded and sick looking, was fascinating but terrible. The knot in his throat felt more like a firm hand trying to throttle him.

He held her heart shaped face in his palms and tried to soothe her, but she would shake her head and rip away from him, refusing to be comforted. In the end he just talked to her about whatever came to mind. In this case it was his vegetarianism. Then Cyborg, then Halloween, then his messy room. But once he had gone full circle and still saw her burying her eyes in her knees, he fell silent. So he just let his hand sit in her hair and pass over the oily tangled strands.

He gripped her under her arm and pulled until she stood and yet again allowed herself to be dragged along the always. As they reached Robin's room and punched in the keys, Beast Boy wiped the sticky tears off of Raven's cheeks and sat her on the bed as he went into the bathroom.

Carefully searching for liquid soap, he rifled through Robin's cabinet, pushing away shaving cream and painkillers. On the top shelf sat a bottle of translucent blue body wash that smelled something like soap and lemon. He poured six capfuls into the empty tub and let the water run until it was full and frothy with white soap. Towels, wash cloths, shampoo, conditioner.

"Rae?" he said quietly as he poked his head out of the door. "Are you okay?"

It was too easy a question to answer. She lay still, curled around herself, mewls of worry and bitter sadness sounding from her. And though at first she curled herself into a tighter ball, reminding Beast Boy of a scared child, she eventually let him pick her up and carry her into the bathroom, as she didn't seem to want to place her feet on his floor.

He rested her on the toilet lid and turned around.

"I won't look," he promised, indicating that the running bath was for her.

"Thank you," she said hoarsely.

A splash and a small "you can look now" alerted him that he was allowed to turn.

"Do you want me to wait for you outside?"

She was still again, her eyes resumed their depression. If one was to wait and watch her, they would think her made of wax, frigid and and eerie in their likeness to the real thing, and only a shuddering hiccup or a blink could tell you she was alive. In this, the shapeshifter was thankful for the tears.

He sighed and took a wash cloth, lathered it with soap and water, and carefully wet Raven's dry shoulders, beginning to scrub away at her skin. Smirking, he knew that the very thought of this situation would have been impossible a week ago. That he would be the one taking care of the shrewish mage, with her sarcasm and her nearly cruel amusement at his failures. But suddenly mean, witty, strong Raven was meek and lost. And he had to be the mature one, something almost unheard of in the boy. So he continued his crusade on the dirt her body had accumulated.

"Rae, you need to help me out a little," he gulped as he declared her back, shoulders and arms pristine. He coughed nervously, blushing at the idea of having to clean her more protected areas. Then, with an almost avoiding eye, he placed the washcloth in her hand and turned away respectfully, waiting for her to cleanse what needed to be cleansed.

There was a quiet _shlop_ and the washcloth hit him in the back. He grinned and grabbed the shower head and turned it on Raven, soaking her hair and face until she looked rather like an violet sheepdog. She sputtered and lifted the hair away from her face before she magicked a small wave of water and send it flying into her green friend's face, a tiny, rusty laugh croaking out of her mouth.

"Are you sure that was a laugh? Didn't eat a turkey whole? No dying animal in that stomach of yours?"

"No, idiot," she sneered. "Just your mother."

He laughed and turned the shower back on spraying her in the face.

"It's good to see you moving again. I don't like wimpy catatonic Raven. She worries me."

"I'm not exactly fond of mature Beast Boy. I can't stand you if I can stand you."

"So me being responsible is worse than me being annoying."

"As unfathomable as it is to think of something being worse than your personality on a regular day, I think this just might top it." She wiped water off her eyebrows and finally turned to him, a smile so soft taking form, it almost made her look like a different person. "But thank you."

"Don't mention it," Beast Boy said quietly, pouring some shampoo onto her head and massaging squeezing, and rubbing her scalp until he no longer felt the grease and dirt under his fingers. Within that small joking dialogue, in which she declared the brotherly changeling intolerable, she had told him quite openly, without any words, how grateful she was for him being there for. For taking care of her and letting her be dependent.

She would never say it out loud, but the fact that she let him wash, comb, and condition her hair was proof of it. After much pain, her hair was finally tangle free and she was clean once more, and looking far healthier.

"Turn, cover," she ordered, ensuring that Beast Boy had indeed turned and covered his jester's eyes before standing, drying herself off with a towel, and putting on a change of clothes Beast Boy had taken from her room.

Steam poured out of the bathroom door as it opened, a blast of cooler air hitting Raven in the face. Cold, she climbed into bed, exhausted, embarrassed by her hysterics, and sad at the fact that it was now twelve thirty. Beast Boy unplugged the clock and turned it away from her.

"He will wake up. And that day can be he birthday. Get some sleep." He kissed her forehead goodnight, and to his surprise, she returned it with a peck to his cheek. She sneered at his shocked expression.

"Don't get used to it, jackass. Go to sleep."

About to leave the room, he stopped, faced her, and asked one final question.

"What did you get him for his birthday?"

"Plane tickets. Paris. We like it there."

* * *

Several hours after the door clicked shut, Raven lay still, caught between layers of sleep and clarity. Her thoughts were random but her eyes were open, she felt chilled currents of air flowing into the room from the window. And through the slowly closing eyes, she was painfully aware of the thinly wrapped present she hid from herself, safely stowed in his bedside stand.

'Paris,' she thought, the memory of brioche and bouillabaisse pushing away her subconscious.

It was three in the morning and Raven had no idea how she was going to pull herself out of bed once the sun rose. Even worse, she was beginning to realize that she might not be able to live without him. Weather it meant she was in love, she didn't know, but she knew that the thought terrified her. She was independent. She was strong. And she was proud as hell, stubborn as a bull, and aggressive to the brim. She didn't want that taken away. To be reduced to what she was this week, a coward with unstoppable tear ducts and an inability to function, was less attractive than Plasmus on a bad day.

Still, it was impossible to ignore the tearing of her gut or the leaping of her heart when the image of the masked boy drifted into her head. The amount of joy in her chest balanced out the apprehension in her mind, making it impossible to choose a path, to determine exactly what she herself found true. How could she be with him if he loved her and if she didn't love him back? How could he love her when she nearly killed him?

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos. Azarath Metrion Zinthos..." she almost hummed her mantra, her mind weighed down with fatigue. The world always seemed more easier after those word were said, her Azarthian husky and course in her throat, the language like an artifact of the cruelest times. It was strange that it comforted her. But it did. Even though no one was there to whisper it soothingly in her ear. She didn't need anyone to. She didn't need anyone period.

She herself laughed mockingly at that lie.

She rolled on her side to look away from the plain ceiling, trying to fall asleep, when something changed. Skin, soft but rough, brushed against her leg. She knew the scent of the enigma as if the aroma had been branded into her mind with a burning spear.

He wasn't wearing his mask. His eyes were deep and they met hers with his fiery intensity. She forgot the way his bare eyes made her feel.

The silence was heavy. Uncomfortable. He was awake, and this comforted her far less than she thought it would.

But neither knew what to say. Robin was scratched and bandaged and bruised. Raven was the one who hurt him. Robin knew what he felt. Raven didn't.

And yet both of them wanted to be in the other's embrace. But the awkwardness was too much for either of them to overcome.

Raven was the first to speak, her voice raspy, "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you."

They looked away from each other, knowing full well the the silence would settle in again.

"The nurse says I can't fight this week. Or my stitches will tear."

"Good. You need time."

"For what?"

"Recovery," she said slowly, as if unsure.

He rested his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling. Her eyes, though diligently trying to avoid looking at him, wandered to his chest, chiseled yet thin even through his shirt, marked with stitches and bruises and cuts. Face bruised. Shoulder bandaged, eye blackened. Robin was in a terrible state. In her mind, Raven was in his arms.

"I'm sorry," she said shakily.

He looked up at her and made eye contact for the what seemed like the first time. "It's okay. Only to be expected, I guess."

"I don't understand. I lost con-"

"Because of your meditation."

"What?"

"Because of your meditation," he repeated, nodding. "Well think about it. You used to be challenged by positive emotion. Now that you focus on positive emotion _storing_ you powers instead of releasing them, it seems normal that negative emotion conflicts."

"But I can feel sadness without incident," she pointed out stiffly.

"Yes, but it's relative, isn't it? Depends on the person. You don't seem to think sadness is linked to your powers so they aren't. Speculatively."

"So if I said anger isn't linked then it isn't."

"Doesn't seem like it works like that, does it?"

"No," Raven said darkly. "It doesn't."

"So don't be upset. You didn't know it would happen." He smiled lightly, trying regain her attention, but her eyes refused to look into his. She bit down on her lip, clenched, her teeth, all to stop the tears she felt in her clenched throat.

"I did, though." She rested her chin on her knees. Her voice was harsh and gravely as always "I knew I would be hurting you one way or another when I said those things to you, and I didn't hesitate for a second. I was too damn scared you would hurt me. Or that I didn't deserve you. Something along those lines. But I can't not be told this isn't my fault... when we both know it is."

"I was the one who lost control."

"I killed him."

Robin leaned away, aghast. He stared at her on baited breath.

"You _what_?"

"I didn't mean to. I lost it. My powers crushed him and his organs couldn't function."

"Rae, couldn't you have healed him?"

"It isn't like I wanted any of this to happen!" She growled, her hair whipping around her face. "Had I tried to heal him he only would have died quicker. Why do you think you were in the hospital for so long?"

Robin huffed and cracked his knuckles, then his wrists. He rubbed a tired hand over his exposed eyes and turned to Raven, staring at her. Violet hair soaked his pillow, the hair drying upon it, still gleaming with dampness in the hazy moonlight. Her skin was pale as ever, porcelain and dainty to match a sharp but somehow gentle face. The Raven he remembered. The Raven that never left his thoughts. His fantasy. But as he took in all the beauty that he had so missed, the grace and mystery, he noticed she didn't look as healthy. She was skinny. Not her usually healthy slimness, not even thin, but scrawny. Sick. He raised himself and crawled to where she lay, flat, staring at the ceiling, and kneeled over her, his hands just near her shoulders, as if itching to pin her under his weight.

She stared back blandly as he, on all fours, stared at her from above.

"Why do this to yourself, Rae?"

"..."

"I asked you a question," he said.

"Because I thought you were going to die. I felt sick. Do you want to try eating when faced with potential murder of someone close? And if you were the murderer? If you sent Star into a coma, you wouldn't leave her side."

"Why is it always Star?"

Her eyes narrowed into a cat like leer.

"What do you mean 'why is it always Star'?"

"How clear do I have to be?" Robin asked. Hardly blinking, he looked down at her, her delicate frame so close to his. "I told you before that I love you. Starfire doesn't enter into it. She has Chasen. And I don't care."

"What if I don't know how I feel about you? What if I say things I don't mean, lie, or hurt you out of cowardice?"

"You're in my room. You sleep in my clothes. You didn't eat or sleep because I wouldn't wake up. Call me insane, but I that there's something to that. We can always figure things out as we go along."

"And if I fuck up?" She questioned, her heart beginning to hitch at the nearness of his skin.

He shrugged.

"Then you fuck up. We're both fucked up already, so it's bound to happen."

Raven inhaled softly as he lay down next to her. He smelled like soap. And she felt her desire for him spike as she felt his breath on her shoulder. Swallowing uselessly, she pursed her lips until they turned rosy and plump.

Earning a small cry from her mouth, he pulled her into his chest and clung to her, his fingers holding fast to her skin, her soft, dewey hair under his nose. Sparks of scents, so subtle they felt electric, filled his hungry mind. He whispered against her temple of how much he loved her and how he always would. His lips lowered to her cheekbone and searched for their match, kissing a line towards them, a quivering rush taking hold of Raven as their mouths finally met. His hands wound their way to her shoulders, admiring the defined clavicles under his fingertips, the soft skin, all the while he never broke from her, his cold palms shooting surprise and lust into her nerves.

She gasped as he curved his head towards her neck, taking the sensitive flesh into his teeth, nipping his way along her throat. Everything felt like it was flaming, every place he touched, every press of his lips to her skin, was a shattering of her composure; lightning. Her thumbs hooked under his shirt and brought it over his head, craving his lips as they left her to rid their owner of the garment. Their lips came crashing together again, tongues at war, until he pulled away from the kiss and looked at her in those huge dark lavender orbs.

"Rae, I don't want you to rush into anything. Unless you want to."

"Robin. It's not like I haven't done this before."

"Okay, I... oh. Um...," he faltered, scolding himself for ruining the moment he was too guilty to admit dreaming about. In truth, he wasn't surprised that she wasn't a virgin. Raven wasn't the pure, chastity-abiding type. And you can't look expect someone who looked like Raven to wait forever, he concluded.

"I'm not running away this time," she insisted coyly.

"Promise?"

In response, she smirked sexily and pulled him back towards her.

The next morning, Robin decided that waking up next to a barely clothed Raven was better and infinitely more energizing then coffee.

* * *

_**It took a while for a reason, see? x) I made a Raven/Robin 100 challenge, so if you guys want to try it out, it could make some great stories. Just credit me for the challenge list. Here's the link!**_

neonforleo. deviant art .com/art/RaeRob-100-109172766

_**Read and Review please! **_


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